John Buntan's Gbave. — A' new tomb has been erected over the grave of the author of " The Pilgrim's Progress " in Bunhill-fields Burial-ground, City-road, London. The requisite funds for this memorial have been raised by public subscription, under the pi-esidency of the Right Hon. the Earl of Shaftesbury. The length of the tomb is about 7 feet, and the height rather over 4 feet. On the top, in rt reclinirg posture, with book in hand, is the carved effigy of Joan Bunyan, in stone, witli tlie head resting on a pillow, tlie length of the figure being 5 feet S inches. On the nortli side, in relief, is a stone panel representing ( /Inistian starting on his pilgriiuMge with tlie burden on his back ; and on the south fide Christian is represented as in the act of reaching the cros*", and the burden falling from his shoulders. At the east end of the tomb is the following inscription engraved on a portion of the old stone : "John Bvmyan, author of ' TJie Pilgrim's Progress ; ' ob. 'Slst August, 16S8 ; ;efc. CO." The slab at the opposite end records the fact of the restoration of the work by piiblic subsciiption. May, 18G2. F^^ i.A>-Ji-7 r:^ ,1)^. l-^hUXTIhl^IKCE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. BY JOHN BUNYAN. % ifbj eWm, iuitfj n gjitnmx aiib IJotcs, PRINCIPALLY SELECTED FROM Bt'NYAN's WORKS, BY GEORGE OPFOR, Esq. ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN GILBERT. LONDON : ROUTLEDGE, WARNE, AND ROUTLEDGE, FARRINGDON STREET; AND 56, WALKER STREET, NEW YORK. 1861. ADVERTISEMENT. Veneration for the memory of Bunyan has stimulated the Editor's most anxious care to make this edition a correct /«c simile of what the Author himself published. Most of the notes are extracted from his other works, and throw a, light upon those few passages which have proved difficult to young persons : — The certificate which was to be carried beyond the grave to the gates of the celestial city — the meaning of tlie lions — the House Beautiful — the giants — the fight with Apollyon — passage through death's dark valley in the midst of the pilgrimage, and many other adventures easily understood by the experienced Christian. In the Notes the extracts are numbered in conformity with the only correct list of Bunyan's whole works arranged in chronological order as they were published. This list will be found on the last page of the Memoir. They amount to the amazing number of sixty distinct treatises, among whith most admirable and useful productions, it would indeed be difficult to mark thos? which are the most striking. To render this invaluable book a blessing to the millions, by publishing it at a very moderate price, has necessarily much abridged the notes and the memoir. This humble efi'ort to promote the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom is dedicated to the youthful inquirer after the wicket-gate aud the celestial city, by their devoted fi-iend, GEOEGE OFFOR. MEMOIE OE JOHN BUNYAN. I. — HIS BIETH, TOUTHrUL DEPEAVITT, AND MABEIAGE, Thk history of mankind does not furnish so remarkable a memoir as that of the prince of allegorists. From the most degraded state in the ranks of human nature, he was, by divine tuition, fitted to become an exalted minister of tlie gospel, a Christian hero, exhibiting that mighty conquest over sin and death by which the portals of life are opened to exquisite enjoj'ment and to an infinite and eternal extent. Born in deep poverty, left to run wild in demoralizing excesses, a ring-leader in vice, and a very curse to society ; he was arrested by the stings of conscience, fixed and rankling in his heart. In vain were his efforts to smother his convictions, that he might rush on to perdition. The mighty haiid of God was upon him, curbing his wild propensities, and converting the pom- blasphemer into the energetic proclaimer of salvation, through the merits of tlje Eedeemer. His whole career is beautifully portrayed by the Psalmist, — " Ye have lien among the pots," discoloured by smoke and soot, " Yet shall ye be as tlie wings of a dove, covered with silver and her feathers with yellow gold." 'i'lie bright and beautiful plumage of an eastern dove, glistening interchangeably as witli polished silver and burnished gold. The seventeenth century was a most eventful and important period. Every effort had been made to counteract the mighty efforts of the Reformation. Sun- day sports and pastimes were commanded. In the midst of a struggle between tlie friends of Christianity and infidelity, Bunyan was born, in 1628, and liis birth-year was honoured with a signal victory gained over lawless violence by the passing of the bill of rights. The sum of that act was, that " No man shall be taxed without the consent of Parliament, nor be arrested, imprisoned, or exe- cuted but by due course of law." Every attempt was made by the court to recover arbitrary power, to attain which, cruelties were perpetrated which ren- dered it stUl more odious. Laymen and clerg}'men renowned for learning and piety, for opposing the views of the court, had their ears cut off, noses slit, faces branded with red-hot irons, publicly whipped on the naked body, every lash bringing away the flesh, and then imprisoned with such cruelties, that wlien released, they could neither see, hear, nor walk. These cruelties were followed by a desolating civU war, which overwhelmed the country with demoralization and debauchery. To stem these torrents of iniquity, God was pleased to raise up an army of Christian worthies, of spotless life and energetic character. Two of these pos. eessed creative geniuses, the one a decided republican, whose sublime poem of Paradite Lotl, has graced the literature of his country. The other as decided BIRTHPLACE OF BUXYAN. ft royalist, whose Pilgrim's Progress has proved a most important blessing, not only to this nation, but to the whole world. Bunyan was born in the village of Elstow, about a mile from Bedford, in a hum- ble cottage. Many attempts have been made to naiTate the scenes of his remark- able life. Clergymen and dissenting ministers, laymen and a poet Laureat, even Roman Catholics and Puseyites, have united in bearing testimony to the holy tendency of his writings. All agree in beai-ing this evidence, that from his con- version, his spiritual baptism shed a sacred halo round all his actions. Bunyan gives this account of his pedigree : — " My descent was of a low and in- considerable generation ; my father's house being of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families in the land," certainly a travelling tinker, probably a gipsy. " I am thine if thou be not ashamed to own me, because of my low and contemptible descent in the world." Ashamed of thee on account of thy poverty, thou delightful companion of our pilgrimage ! Then must we be ashamed of that poor shepherd boy known throughout the world as the royal, the extatic Psalmist ; and still more solemn thought, be ashamed of the despised son of a poor carpenter, who was God manifest in the flesh. "The poor Christian," said Bunyan, " has something to answer them that reproach him for his ignoble pedigree. True, may that man say, I am taken out of the dunghill, but I fear God. This is the highest and most noble. He hath the honour, the life, and the glory that is lasting." His father is described as an honest, poor, labouring man, who, like Adam, unparadised, had all the world before him to get his bread in, and was vei7 industrious and careful to maintain his family. In Bunyan's childhood lie was, for a sliort period, sent to school, to learn reading, but evil associates made sad havoc with these unshapen attainments. He says, " To my shame, I ELSTOW CHURCH. confess, I did soon lose that little I learned, and that almost utterl}-. As ftir my own natural life, for the time that I was without God in the world, it was, indeed, according to the course of this world, and to the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience. It was my delight to be taken captive by tlie devil at his will ; being filled with all uni-ighteousness, that from a child 1 had but few equals, both for cursing, lying, and blaspheming the name of God." Duiing this period, his conscience was ill at ease ; the clanking of Satan's chains, Ln which he was hurijing to destruction, distracted him. " The Lord, even in my childhood, did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions. When tliese terrible dreams did leave me, I let loose the reins of my lusts, and delighted in all transgression against tlie law of God. I was the very ringleader of aU the youths that kept me company into all manner of vice and ungodliness. "When M,ansoul trampled upon things divine,' And wallowed in filth as doth a swine. Then I was there, and did rejoice to see Diabolus and Mausoul so agree." In the midst of all this violent depravity, the Holy Spirit began the work of regeneration in his soul — a peculiar, a solemn, yea, an awful work — to fit this poor debauched youth for purity of conduct — for communion with heaven — for wondrous usefulness as a Gospel minister — for patient endurance of suffer- ings for righteousness' sake — for writing works which promise to be a blessing to the church in all ages — for passing the black river over which there is no bridge, to shine all bright and glorious in the firmament of heaven. " Wondert of grace to God belong." nr MEIIOIU OP JOHN BLNTAN. To a robust frame was added that natural courage which led liim into frequent dangers. " God followed me with judgments mixed with mercy. Once 1 fell into a creek of the sea, and hardly escaped drowning ; another time, I fell out of a boat into Bedford river, but mercy yet preserved me alive; again, being in the field with one of my companions, an adder passed over the highway, so I, having a stick in my hand, struck her over the back, and having stunned her, I plucked her sting out with my fingers, by which, had not God been merciful to me, I might have brought myself to my end." Once he fell into an exceeding deep pit as he was travelling in the dark, but escaped with little injury. Bunyaii adds — " Here was judgment and mercy, but neither of them did awaken my soul to righteousness ; wherefore I sinned still, and grew more and more rebellious against God, and careless of mine own salvation." During this career, he attended public worship in Elstow church, a venerable fabric. The same bell which called him to the service in the morning summon- ing the youth to sports in the afternoon. Upon one of these occasions a very remarkable scene took place. The sermon was against sabbath-breaking ; con- science accused him, and he became wretched. After dinner he " shook the sermon out of his mind," and went to his sports. In the midst of a game at cat on Elstow-green, a voice darted into his soul, " Wilt thou leave thy sins and ELSTOW GREEN. go to heaven, or have thy sins and go to hell?" He conceived in his mind that the Lord was hotly displeased with him. While musing, he recollected the greatness of his sins, despaired of mercy, and rushed on in his career, concluding that heaven was gone already, so that on that he must not think. All this took place whilst he was in the act of striking the cat. It does not appear to have been noticed by the by-standers, and it shows the rapid succession of thoughts in his mind, so wondrously displayed in his Holt/ War. That such a scape-grace entered the army is not surprising. His daring corn-age , his immoral habits, fitted him for the military glory of rapine and BELFBY, ELSTOW. desolation. He fought at the taking of Leicester, and was selected, with others, to make an assault, but one of his comrades thrust himself into his place, and was killed by a carbine-shot from the walls; this little startled him, for, being in an army where wickedness abounded, he was the more hai-dened. The dreadful ravages committed by the royal troops under the eyes of Charles were soon avenged. The battle of Naseby followed in a few days, the royalists were cut to pieces, and from that day the king made feeble fight, and soon lost his crown and his life. Bunyan returned to his occupation all the worse for his soldier habits ; in this forlorn situation, under the unsought guidance of God, he entered into the marriage state with a virtuous but very poor young woman, who had beer, blessed with a pious father. He says, that " this woman and I came together as poor as poor might be, not having so much household-stuff as a dish or spoon betwixt us both." His wife possessed two books, The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven. and The Practice of Piety. She enticed him to read, and he, by application, " again recovered that art which he had almost lost." Her affectionate tender- ness became a blessing to him ; his rugged heart was softened, and he felt alarmed for the salvat-on of his soul. TV. MEMOIK or JOHN BUNTAN. II.— THE INTEENAL CONFLICT, OK NEW BIRTH. A woman that was " a loose and ungodly wretch," hearing the young tinker's oaths, protested to him that " he swore and cursed at that most fearful rate, that she trembled to hear him," and " that he was able to spoil all the youth in a whole town." This unexpected blow, given by one of Satan's slaves, wounded a conscience that had resisted all the overtures of mercy ; the words proved to be good seed strangely sown, and their fruit in the profligate young man was bitter repentance. He thus delineates his character, and the effect of his first convic- tions upon his companions in wickedness. " I was one of the great sin-breeders. I infected all the youth of the town where I was bom ; the neighbours counted me so ; my practice proved me so. Christ took me first, and the contagion was allayed. AVhen God made me sigh, they would hearken, and inquiringly say. What's the matter with John? When I went to seek the bread of life, some would follow, and the rest be in a muse." He now fell in very eagerly with the outward observances of religion, adoring the priest, the clerk, and even the vestments. At this time the Book of Common Prayer was abolished, and the Presbyterian Du-ectory guided the public service. A solemn event probably drove him from Sunday sports. A match at foot- ball on the Lord's-day was announced by ringing the church-bells, when a flash of lightning entered the belfry and killed both the ringers. From this time he occasionally stood by the belfry-gate; but very soon after he shunned these Sunday-sports. In the absence of spi- ritual life he became proud of his self- righteousness, and, to use his own homely phrase, he was " feeding God with chap ters, and prayers, and promises, and vows, and a great many more such dainty dishes, and thinks that he serveth God as well as any man in England can, while he has only got into a cleaner way to hell than the rest of his neighbours." Bunyan had now become a brisk talker of religion, without feeling its inward power, when, by means simple and effica- cious, he was stripped of his self- righteousness. Being engaged in his trade at Bedford, he overheard the con- pious women, and it humbled and alarmed him. " I heard, but I understood not." " Their talk was about a new birth, the work of God on their hearts, also how they were convinced of their miserable state by nature; they talked how God had visited their souls with his love in the Lord Jesus. They also discoursed of their own wretchedness of heart, of their unbe- lief; and did contemn, slight, and abhor their own righteousness, as insufficient to do them any good. And methought they spake as if joy did make them speak ; they spake with such pleasantness of Scripture language, and with such appearance of grace in all they said, that they were to me as if they had found a new world ; as if they were people that dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned BELFRY-OATEWAY, versation of some poor. THE BEDFORD NATURAL BAPTISTRY. among their neighbours. Their talk and discourse went with me ; also my heart would tarry with them, for I was greatly affected with their words, both because by them I was convinced that I wanted the true tokens of a truly godly man, and also because by them I was convinced of the happy and blessed condition of him that was such a one." His mind was thorouglily awakened as to the infinite value of his soul, and tlie unspeakableness of its loss. The recollection of his former immorality oppressed him at times with all the terrors of despair. He was struggling for salvation, as a drowning man in a perilous ocean struggles for life — "deep calleth unto deep — all thy billows are gone over me." The whirlwind howls around him. Many were the black nights of his fierce mental struggle. Still he perse- vered ; an invisible and unknown comforter saved him from desperation. He felt his inability to atone for his sins, and was not suflBciently humbled to trust simply and entirely to the atonement of Christ. He soon obtained an introduc- tion to Mr. GifFord, a Baptist minister, and in him found a kindred spirit ; he also had been in the royal army, and had had naiTow escapes ; he also had bean a profligate, and found mercy. He and his church, after proper inquiries, admitted Bunyan into church-fellowship, being then about twenty-five years of age. The rural, retired spot where he was baptized, probably, as was then usual, at XVUl MEMOIE or JOHN BUZlTrAN. midnight, to avoid the rabid persecution which then raged against the Baptists, is still pointed out. This is a small stream from the river near Bedford- bridge. The troubles of his deeply-wounded spirit still clung to him. His inquiring mind would be satisfied as to the most difficult truths of revelation. The day of grace, and a fear that it bad passed, was a source of agony to his wounded spirit. He was confronted with that " grim-faced one. Captain Past-hope, with his terrible red standai-d — a hot iron and a hard heart — exhibited by Ensign Despair at Eye-Gate." These were swept away by that Scripture, " Compel them to come in." He saw that there was room in the bosom of Jesus for his afflicted, soul. He then became alarmed lest he had not been effectually called. He felt tlie poverty of wealth. " Could this call have been gotten for money. Had I a whole world, it had all gone ten thousand times over. I would not lose one promise, or have it struck out of the Bible, if in return I could have as much gold as would reach from London to York, piled up to the heavens." In pro- portion to his soul's salvation, honour was a worthless phantom, and gold but glittering dust. Election and reprobation — the final perseverance of the saints — but, above all, the inspii-ation of the Scriptures — were subjects of solemn inquiry. A storm of blasphemous thoughts came upon him — " questions against the being of a God and the authority of the Holy Scriptures." This was the battle with Apollyon — this the momentary loss of his sword, without which he was under the power of the foe. A prayerful examination removes all his doubts ; he resumes his weapon, and the enemy flies away. Soon after these agitations of his spirit, he was seized with a severe illness, threatening consumption, and he entered the Valley of the Shadow of Death. A vivid view of the unutterable anguish of lost souls ten-Lfied one who felt him- self worthy of the fierce displeasure of God. " The devil is indeed very busy at work during the darkness of a soul. He throws in his fiery darts to amaze- ment, when we are encompassed with the terrors of a dismal night ; he injects with a quick and sudden malice a thousand monstrous and abominable thoughts of God, which seem to be the motions of our own minds, and terribly grieve and trouble us." What made those arrows more penetrating and distressing was, that Satan, with subtle art, tipt them with sentences of Scripture, — " No place for repent- ance ;" " rejected ;" " hath never forgiveness," and other passages which, by the malignant ingenuity of the fiend, were formed by his skill as the cutting and barbed points of his shafts. Prayer was here his only comfort, and sustained him in this storm. He thus describes his feelings : — " Oh, the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are effected by athorougli application of guUt!" "Methought I saw as if tlie sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light, and as if the very stones in the street and tiles upon the houses did bend themselves against me." Still he prayed, even when in his greatest darkness and distress. To whom could he go ? his case was beyond the power of men or angels. In God he found a refuge, and his mental agitation subsided. Then, to use his own figure, Captain Consumption, with all his men of death, were routed, and health triumphed over disease ; or, to use the language of an eminent Puritan, " When overwhelmed with the deepest sorrows, and that for many doleful months, he who is Lord of nature healed my body, and he who is the Father of mercies pro- eliiimed liberty to the captive, and gave rest to my weary soul." MEMOIB 0¥ JOHN BUNTAK. XIX The text which operated as a key to all the locks in Doubting Castle and set his burdened spu-it at liberty was Heb. ii. 14, 15. His trying experience made the promises more familiar, clear, and invaluable. " Great sins drew out great grace ; " and the more terrible and fierce guilt was, the more high and mighty the mercy of God in Christ did appear. While he was in God's school of trial, every groan, every bitter pang, and every gleam of hope, were intended to fit him for his future work as a preacher and writer. He well knew ever)' dirty lane and corner of Mansoul, in which the Diabolonians found shelter. His pastor, John Burton, said of him, "He hath through grace taken these thi*ee heavenly degrees, to wit, union with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, and the experience of the temptations of Satan, which do more fit a man for that mighty work of preach- ing the gospel than all the university learning and degrees that can be had." His remarkable experience, familiarity with the Scriptures, deep sense of the value of the soul, and fluency of speech, led his pastor and the church to insist upon his entering on the work of the ministry. This, he says, " did much dash and abash my spirit." Their importunity overcame his reluctance, and, " in private, with much weakness and infirmity, he discovered his gifts amongst them;" and they pressed him forward to preach in the villages round Bedford. He appears to have carefully considered every subject before introducing it to his hearers, and to have written notes of all his sermons. III. — MAKKEE or PEEACHING. — COMMITTED TO PEISON. " In my preaching of the Word, I took special notice to open and allege that the curse of God by the law doth belong to and lay hold on all men as they come into the world, because of sin. This part of my work I fulfilled with great feel- ing, for the terrors of the law, and guilt for my transgressions, lay heavy on my own conscience. I preached what I smartingly did feel, even that under which my poor soul did groan and tremble to astonishment. Indeed, I have been as one sent to them from the dead ; I went myself in chains , to preach to them in chains; and carried that fire in my own conscience that I persuaded them to beware of." During this time, he was visited with severe afHiction by the decease of his first wife, leaving him with four young children. It pleased God to give him a second partner, who proved herself to be a most devoted wife and heroic woman. Bunyan's talent and fearless determination to uphold divine truth, made liim an able disputant. His first controversy was i^ith the Quakers. Burrough, an equally zealous man, entered the list with him. He was called the " Son of Thunder and of Consolation." Burrough slandered his adversary, mistaking him for a hired preacher, and fell under his crushing talent. The restoration of Charles II. introduced a reign of terror and of suffering to the peaceful church. If Dissenters met for worship, they were liable to he stripped of their property, consigned to a jail, and even to be put to death. Preachers were most severely hunted down. To seek the conversion of a drunk- ard or a libertine, was a crime, unless under the rules of the clmrch as by law established. The noble buflVion, the Duke of Buckingham, was encouraged to make a jest of religion, by adilressing a bevy of fine gentlemen and ladies with a ribald exhortation, which he called a sermon ; while Bunyan was hurried to BEDFORD GAOL. prison for addressing to a small congregation at Samsel the solemn realities of divine truth. Tradition points out the spot in which this eminently pious and useful man was confined. This ancient prison was built with and in one of the central piers of the bridge over the river Ouse. As the bridge was only about fourteen feet wide, the prison must have been very small. Howard the philanthropist thus describes the Bed- ford jail : — " The men and women felons associate together ; their night rooms are two dungeons ; only one court for debtors and felons, and no apartment for Uie jailor. Imagination can hardly realise the miseries of fifty or sixty pious men and women, taken from a place of worship, and incarcerated in such dungeons with felons, as was the case while Bunyan was a prisoner. How justly did the poorpilgi'im call it " a certain DEN ! ' " The eyes of Howard penetrated these dens, and tliey were razed to their foundations. On removing the floor, a gold ring was discovered, with Bunyan's initials on it. This ring passed into the possession of the Curate of Elstow, now the Dean of Manchester, and is higlily prized and worn by him as a memento of the lionoui-ed Nonconformist. Dragged from the arms of his affectionate wife, who was brought to death's door by painful apprehensions that her husband's life would be sacrificed, be- reaved of the company of his children, and of personal communion with the little flocks of Christians to whom he ministered, this holiest, most harmless, and useful of men was sent to a jail, and remained a piisoner for more than twelve years in the prime of his life. It has been supposed, probably with great reason, that BDKYAN S RrNG, found under the floor of the prison on Bed- ford Undge. MEMOIE OF JOHN BTJNTAN. XXI his imprisonment hid him during these times of bitter persecution, and saved hia life ; yet this is no diminution of the guilt of his persecutors. " Surely the WRATH of man shall praise Thee ; the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain." In this doleful prison he finds a resting place, and in that DEN, with his soul full of spiritual peace, he tranquilly reposed, waiting the will of his Heavenly lather. " These walls and bars cannot a prison make, The frecbom soul enjoys its liberty ; These clods of earth it may incaptivate, "Whilst heavenly minds are conversant on high. Banging the fields of bless'd eternity."* •After about seven weeks' imprisonment, he was tried at the assizes, before Justice Keelin, who entered upon an argument in favour of the Book of Common Prayer, asserting that " he knew that it had been in use ever since the apostles' time "! ! Bunyan argued that prayer must be the efi'usion of the heart, and not the reading of the form. The judge at length acknowledged that he was not well versed in Scripture, and demanded the prisoner's plea, whether he confessed the indictment. "Now," Bunyan observes, "and not till now, I saw I was indicted, and said. This I confess : we have had many meetings together, both to pray to God, and to exhort one another ; and that we had the sweet comforting presence of the Lord for our encouragement, blessed be his name therefore ! I confessed myseK guilty, no otherwise." The plea of guilty being recorded, Keeling resumed his natural ferocity. " Then," said he, " hear your judgment. You must be had back again to prison, and there lie for three months ; and then if you do not submit to go to church to hear divine service, and leave yoiir preach- ing, you must be banished the realm ; and after that, if you shall be found in this realm without special licence from the king, you must stretch by the neck for it, I tell you plainly. And so he bid my jailor have me away." The hero answered, " I am at a point with you. If I were out of prison to-day, I would preach the gospel again to-morrow, by the help of God." Bunyan severely felt the infirmities of nature. Parting with his wife and children he described as " the pulling the flesh from the bones. I saw I was as a man who was pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and chOdren." His feelings were peculiarly excited to his poor blind Mary. " Oh, the thoughts of the hardships I thought my poor blind one might go under, would break my heart in pieces." WhUe in this state of distress, the promise came to his relief, " Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive ; and let thy widows trust in me." One instance will show the peril in wliich learned and pious men held their lives. John James, the pastor of a Baptist chuixh in Whitechapel, was charged, upon the evidence of one Tipler, a pipe-maker's journeyman, who was not present in the meeting, but swore that he heard him utter treasonable words. Notwithstand- ing the evidence of respectable witnesses, who were present during the whole service, and proved that no such words were used, Mr. James was convicted, and sentenced to be hung. His distracted wife saw the king, and implored mercy : when the unfeeling monarch replied, " Oh, Mr. James ; he is a sweet gentle- man." Again, on the following morning, she fell at his feet, beseeching his royal clemency, when he spurned her from him, saying, "John James, that rogue, he * Written by S. CoUedge, a preaching mechanic, a few days before he suffered death, August, 1681. xxu MEMOIB or JOHK BUNTAN. shall be hanged ; yea, he shall be hanged." And, in the presence of his weeping friends, he ascended from the gibbet to the mansions of the blest. At the end of three months, Bunyan became anxious to know what the enemies of the cross intended to do with him. His sentence was transportation and death, unless he conformed. To give up or shrink from his profession of Christ, by embracing the national forms and submitting his conscience to human laws, he dared not. He resolved to persevere, even to the sacrifice of his life. All his fears as to the salvation of his own soul were now dissipated, never more to cloud his heavenly prospects. Although a beneficed clergyman proclaimed Bunyan to be " the most notorious schismatic in aU the county of Bedford," still he was treated with great respect. Mr. Cobb, the clerk of the justices, visited him in prison, and endeavoured in vain to persuade him to promise not to hold meetings for religious exercises. They held a very friendly interview, which, while it did not shake Bunyan's de- termination, led him to thank Mr. Cobb for his civil and meek discourse, and to ejaculate a heart-felt prayer, " Oh that we might meet in heaven !" OLD SWAN INN, BEDFORD. When the time arrived for the execution of the bitterest part of his sentence God interposed to save the life of his servant. He had familiarized his mind with all the circumstances of an appalling death ; the gibbet, the ladder, the halter, had lost much of their terrors ; he had even studied the sermon he would then have preached to the concoui'se of spectators. At this critical time, the King's coronation took place. To grace it, the King had ordered the release of numerous prisoners, and within the description of offences was that for which Bunyan was confined. The assizes being held in August, lie determined to seek his liberty by a petition to the judges. The court sat at the Old Swan Inn, Bedford. Having written his petition, his modest, timid wife determined to present it to the judges. Her heroic achievements on behalf of her husband are admirably narrated by Bunyan. She had previously travelled to London with a petition to MEMOTE or JOHN ■BTJUTAN'. XXIU the Honse of Lords, and entrusted it to Lord Barkwood, who informed her that they could not interfere, the king having committed the release of the prisoners to the judges. Several times she appeared before them ; love to her husband, a stem sense of duty, a conviction of the gross injustice practised upon one to whom she was most tenderly attached, overcame her delicate, modest, retiring habits, and forced her upon this strange duty. This delicate, courageous, high- minded woman appeared before Judge Hale, who was much affected with her earnest pleading. It was the triumph of love, duty, and piety over bashful timidity. Her energetic appeals were in vain ; and with bitter feelings she re- turned to the prison, believing that it would be the tomb of her beloved husband. She could not have conceived that, under the stately robes of Hale, there was a heart affected by Divine love. And when the nobleman afterwards met thfe despised tinker and his wife, clothed in more glorious robes in the mansions of the blest, how inconceivable their surprise ! The learned judge, in the pure atmosphere of heaven, had found that, from that narrow cell in Bedford gaol, a glory had shone out, illustrating the grace of God, and doing more good to man than all the prelates and judges of the kingdom would accomplish. Bunyan was thus left in that dreai-y and hopeless state of imprisonment, in which he continued for twelve years and a half. His wife, in pleading with the judge for his liberty, said, " My lord, I have four small children that cannot help themselves, of which one is blind, and have nothing to live upon but the charily of good people." As soon as he could get his tools in order, he set to work ; and we- have the following testimony to his industry by a fellow-prisoner, Mr. Wilson, the Baptist minister, and of Charles Doe, who visited him : — " In prison, have I been witness that his own hands have ministered to his and his family's neces- sities, making many hundred gross of long tagged laces, to fill up the vacancies of his time. There also I surveyed his library, the least, but yet the best that e'er I saw — the Bihle and the Book of Martyrs. And during his imprisonment, he writ several excellent and useful treatises, particularly The Holy City, Chris- tian Behaviour, The Resurrection of the Dead, and G<-ace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners." Besides these valuable treatises, Charles Doe states that, of his own knowledge, in prison, Bunyan wrote The Pilgrim's Progress, the first part, and that he had this from liis own mouth. Well might Mr. Doe say, " What hath the devil or his agents got by putting our great gospel minister in prison ?" they prevented his preaching to a few poor pilgrims in the villages round Bedford, and it was the means of spreading his fame and the knowledge of the gospel throughout the world. In addition to these works, the fruits of his imprisonment, may be added, A Map of Salvation and Damnation ; The Four Laot Things, a poem ; Mount Ebal and Gerizim, or. Redemption from the Curse, a poem ; Prison Meditations, a poem ; Juslijicatinn by Faith in Jesus Christ, 4to ; Confession of His Faith and Reason of His Practice. But his most remarkable treatise was published within a short period from the commencement of his incarceration. It proved that the fear of God had, in his heart, swallowed up the fear of man. This was his treatise on the all-important subject of prayer, founded on, " I will pray with the spirit and with the under- standing also." He had been warned by Judge Keeling to " Take heed of speak- ing irreverently of the Book of Common Prayer, for if you do, you will bring great damage upon yourself." Bunyan had formed his ideas of prayer from heartfelt experience ; it is the XXiy MEMOIR OF JOHN BUNYA.N. cry of the burdened, sinking sinner, " Lord, save us, we perish;" or adoration rising from the heart to the throne of grace, filled with hopes of pardon and im- mortality. In his estimation, any form of human invention was an interference with the very nature of prayer, and with tlie work of the Holy Spirit. We are indebted to Dr. Cheever for a beautiful picture of Banyan in his cell. " It is evening; be finishes his work, to be taken home by his dear blind child. He reads a portion of Scripture, and, clasping her small hands in his, kneels on the cold stone floor, and pours out his soul to God; then, with a parting kiss, dismisses her to her mother. The rude lamp glimmers on the table ; with his Bible, pen, and paper, he ^vrites as though joy did make him write. His face is lighted as from the radiant jasper walls of the celestial city. He clasps his hands, looks upward, and blesses God for his goodness. The last you see of him — is alone, kneeling on the prison floor; he is alone with God." His own record of his enjoyments while in prison is, that his feet stood on Mount Zion, Ms body within locks and bars, while his mind was free to study Christ, and elevated higher than the stars. Their fetters could not prevent his communion with God. The more his enemies raged, the more peace he ex- perien.ced. In prison he received the visits of saints, of angels, and the Spirit of God. " I have been able to laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider. I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another world." If his ears were to be pierced in the pillory, it would be only " to hang a jewel there." ■ Oh, happy he who doth possess Christ for his fellow prisoner, who doth glad With heavenly sunbeams gaols that are most sad." How strange must it seem to the luxurious worldling upon his bed of down, with an acliing heart, to hear of the exquisite happiness of the prisoner for Christ, on his straw pallet ! " AVhen God makes the bed," as Bunyan says, " he must needs be easy that is cast thereon; a blessed pillow hath that man for his head, though to all beholders it is hard as a stone." His food was brought daily, and such was the veneration in which his memory was embalmed, that the very jug in which his broth was taken to the prison has been preserved to this day. In the midst of all his sufferings he murmured not, nor for a moment indulged a revengeful spirit — he left the persecutor in the hands of God. " Stand oif, Christian ; pity tlie poor wretch that brings down upon himself the vengeance of God." "When I visited him in prison," said Mr. Doe, " there were about sixty Dis- senters besides himself, and two eminent Dissenting ministers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dun, by which means the prison was very much crowded ; yet, in the midst of all that hurry which so many new comers occasioned, I have heard Mr. Bunyan both preach and pray with that mighty spirit of faith and plerophory of divine assistance that has made me stand and wonder." Here they could sing witliout fear of being overheard — no informers prowling round. The world was shut out; and, in communion with heaven, they could forget their son-ows, and have a rich foretaste of the inconceivable gloi-y of the celestial city. It was under such circumstances that Bunyan preached one of his most remarkable sermons, afterwards published under the title of The Holy City, or the New Jerusalem — her impregnable walls and gates of precious stones, golden streets, water of life, temple, and the redeemed from all nations flocking into it. MEMOIE OF JOHN BUNTAN. XXV To his imprisonment the world is indebted for the most surprising narrative of a new birth that has ever appeared. In prison he wrote the Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. He displays in the preface his deep interest in the spiritual welfare of those who had been bom under his ministry. He rejoices in their happiness, even while he was " sticking between the teeth of the lions in the wilderness. I now again, from the lions' den, from ' the mountains of the leopards,' do look yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival into the desired haven." How natural it was, that, while narrating his own experience, he should be led to write a guide to pilgrims through time to eternity, and that it should be dated from " the den." " 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." Any one to whom the adventures of Christian are familiar, must, on reading the Grace Abounding, be continually struck with the likeness there drawn of the pilgrim— the more he contemplates the two pictures of Christian experience, the more striking is their similarity. The one is a narrative of facts, the other con- tains the same facts allegorized. Thus, by an irresistible impulse from heaven upon the mind of a prisoner for Christ's sake, did a light shine forth from the dungeon on Bedford bridge which has largely contributed to enlighten the habit- able globe. It has oeen translated into most of the languages and dialects of the world. Even the Caffrarian and Hottentot, the enlightened Greek and Hindoo, the remnant of the Hebrew-^race, the savage Malay, and the voluptuous Chinese, •^all have the wondrous narrative in their own languages. rV. — HIS BEMABTCABLE DELIVEBANCE FBOM PEISON. Towards the end of his imprisonment, Bunyan enjoyed great privileges. He frequently, if not regularly, attended the church meetings, and preached with some degree of publicity. The church at Bedford was at this time in want of a pastor, and their eyes were naturally fixed upon Bunyan to succeed to that im portant oflace. The church held several meetings on the subject, the minutes of which are stUl on record, and are very interesting. The result was most gratify- ing. "At a full assembly of the church at Bedford, the 21st of the 10th month [Dec, 1671], after much seeking God by prayer, the congregation did, with joynt consent, call forth and appoint our brother John Bunyan to the pastoral office. And he, accepting thereof, gave himself up to serve Christ and his church in that charge, and received of the elders the right hand of fellowship, after having preached fifteen years." The choice thus solemnly made, was ratified by the abundant blessings of heavenly union and great prosperity ; he was no stranger or novice, but one whose preaching had proved most acceptable to them for a series of years. While Bunyan was a prisoner for preaching the glad tidings of salvation, or, in the mysterious legal jargon of the period, "holding conventicles," he received his Majesty's licence to preach, and thus to hold conventicles,— it was one of the first that was gi-anted. His Majesty continued to keep him a prisoner for preaching more than six months after he had licensed him to preach ! B XXV] MEMOin OF JOUN BUNTAIT. The historj' of his release is vei-y romantic, and leads us hack to the battle of Worcester, at wliich it is very probable that Bunyan fought, escaping among the fugitives from the royal array, never to take up arms again. At this battle Ihe republicans, exasperated by the cruelties inflicted upon the inhabitants of I jcicester, fought like lions. The royal army was completely routed, its leaders who survived the battle, escaping in various ways. Charles found refuge at Bos- cobel House, and, disguised as a woodcutter, was hid in an oak. His adventures till a volume, and the I'arliament offered one thousand pounds reward for his apprehension. At length he arrived at Brighton, then a little fishing town, and succeeded in escaping in a small vessel to France. The vessel left Shoreham, and at niglit stood over to France, and returned to Poole, no one discovering that they had been out of their course. A letter recently found among the archives of the Society of Friends at Devonshire House shows the important aid Charles received from the mate of the vessel, Richard Carver, who was a Quaker. He recognised the King, who pretended to be a bankrupt merchant flying from the bailiffs. He assured him tliat his life was safe in his hands. He kept the crew in ignorance of the quality of their passenger ; and when they arrived on the French coast off Fecamp, rowed him to the shore, and in shoal water carried him on his shoulders to the land Many years hud passed away, when Carver, on his return from the West Indies, found a vast number of Quakers imprisoned for conscience' sake. Whitehead and Bloore, the leading members of the Society of Friends, entreated his sympathy, and with him gained access to the King, who at once recognised him, and inquired why he had not been to claim his reward. He answered that he had been rewarded with the satisfaction of having saved life. And now. Sir, I ask nothing for myself, but for my poor friends, that you should set tliem at liberty, as I did you. The King offered to release any six ; and we may imagine the sailor's blunt answer — What ! six poor Quakers for a King's ransom ! ! His Majesty was so pleased as to invite diem to come again. The Friends in gaol were suffering severe privations, under which great num- bers had perished. The application for the release of the survivors, thus happily commenced, was followed up with zeal and energy, and crowned with success. Shade of the noble sailor, thy name is worthy of all honour ! And tlie more so. because thy gallant bearing has been studiously concealed in all the histories oi these important transactions. Had he been a mischief-making Jesuit, like Father Huddleston, the noble deed would have been trumpeted forth for the admiration of the world to all ages. Four hundred and seventy-one Quakers, and, with the royal permission, twenty Baptists and Independents, were released from prison by one deed ol pardon, and among their number was John Bunyan. His petition is recorded in the Minutes of the Privy Council, the 8th of May, 1C72, and on the 17th is entered the certificate of the Sheriff of Bedfurdsliire that he had been imprisoned for no other cause than that of Nonconformity. Upon this, his name was ordered to be inserted in the deed of pardon, which took many months before it passed the various offices and was pleaded at the assizes. An entry in the records of the city of Leicester proves that he was there, and claimed the liberty of preaching some months before his discharge, — " John Bunyan's licence bears date the 15th of May, 1072, to teach as a Congrega- tional person, being of that persuasion, in the house of Josias Eoughed, Bed- MEMOIE or JOHN BUNYAN. XXVll ford, or in any other place, room, or house, licensed by his Majestie's memoraiid. The said Bunyan showed his licence to I\Ir. Ma)'or; Mr. 0\eringe, Mr. Freeman, and Mr. Browne being then present, the tith day of October, 1672." His first object, upon recovering his liberty, was the proper arrangement of his worldly business, that he might provide for the wants of his family, a matter of little difiiculty, with their frugal habits. The cottage in which he took up his abode was of the humblest class. He, at the same time, entered with all his soul BUXYAN S EESIDEKCE AFTEB HIS IMPRISONMENT. into his beloved work of preaching and writing, to set forth the glories of Im- manuel. While a capacious meeting-house was being constructed, the pastor was indefatigable in visiting the sick and preaching from house to house, set- tling churches in villages, reconcUing differences, and extending the sacred influences of the gospel, so that in a very short time he attained the appellation of Bishop Bunyan. 'VMien he opened the meeting-house, it was " so thronged that many were constrained to stay without, though it was very spacious, every one striving to partake of his instructions." And here he lived in much peace and quiet of mind, contenting himself with that little God had bestowed upon him, and sequestering himself from all secular emplojinents to follow that of his call to the ministry. The word " sequestering," and his being described in deeds, for some years after this, as a bi-azier, lead us to conclude, that he continued bis business, but so as to allow him much time for his Christian duties and his bene- volent pursuits. V. — BUNTAIf'S PASTOEAL DUTIES, WOEKS, POPULAEITT, AlfD DEATH. Many members were added to the church, and, on the fith of the 11th rnonib, in 1673, his spirit was greatly refreshed. His son Thomas passed the jions, and was welcomed into the house Beautiful, uniting in full communion with the church to which his father ministered. Doubtless there was, as j"\I.ercy expresses it, " music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that he was there." He afterwards became a >-illage preacher. XXVlll MEMOIE OF JOHN BTTNTAN. Bunyan had a severe controversy with his brother ministers as to water bap- tism being a pre-requisite to the Lord's table. His opinion was, that all those who were admitted to spiritual communion with Christ, must be received into church fellowship, leaving the application of water to private judgment. Still he was most decided as to the importance of baptism and the Lord's Supper. " Do you think that love-letters are not desired between lovers? Why these, God's ordinances, are his love letters, and his love tokens too. ' More to be desired are (hey than gold, j'ea, than much fine gold ; sweeter also than honey and the honey-comb.' " " Christ made himself known to his disciples in breaking of bread; who would not, then, that loves to know him, be present at such an ordinance ? Ofttimes the Holy Ghost, in his comfortable influence, has accom- panied the baptized in the very act of administering of it." His views of the fellowship of the saints were equally lovely: — "Church fellowship, rightly managed, is the glory of all the world. No place, no community, no fellow- ship is adorned and bespangled with those beauties, as is a church rightly knit together to their Head, and lovingly serving one another." Such he ad- mitted to the table of their common Lord, while he dared not to communicate with tlie profane. A new era was now dawning upon him, which, during the last ten years of his life, added tenfold to his popularity. For many years, his beautifully simple but splendid allegory. The Pilgrim's Progress, lay slumbering in his drawer. Numerous had been his consultations with his pious associates and friends, and various had been their opinions, whether it was serious enough to be pub- lished. All of them had a solemn sense of the impropriety of anything like trifling as to the way of escape from destruction. It appears strange to us, who have witnessed the very solemn impressions in all cases made by reading that book, that there could have been a doubt of the propriety of treating in a col- loquial manner, and even under the fashion of a dream, those most important truths. The result of all those consultations was his determination, " I print it will ;" and it has raised an imperishable monument to his memory. Up to this time, all Bunyan's popularity arose from his eajlier works, his public and private labours, and his sufi'erings. Leaving out of the question those most extraordinary books. The Pilgrim's Progress and Holy War, his other writ- ings ought to have handed down his name, with honour and popularity, to the latest posterity. While the logical treatises of learned evangelists are well cal- culated to furnish instruction to those who are determined to obtain knowledge, the works of Bunj'an create that very determination, and furnish that very know- ledge, blended with amusement that fixes it in the memory. In The Pilgrim's Progress, the world has acknowledged one train of beauties ; picture after picture, most beautifully finished, exhibiting the road from destmction to the celestial city ; our only difficulty in such a display being to decide as to which is the most interesting and striking piece of scenery. The learned have ransacked the literature of all ages and countries to find the storehouses from whence these ideas were drawn. But vain have been all their researches. Human wisdom is hum- bled before an unlettered artizan who never felt his own brilliant allegorical powers. His soul had been baptized into Scriptural truths conceived in the imagery of the Bible. His whole mind was deeply tinted with the sublime scenei-y of Job, of Isaiah, of our Lord, and of all the inspired penmen. This alone was his ample storehouse. The researches of nearly two centuries have proved the truth of his perfect claim to originality. MEMOIE OF 30U^ BUNTAK. XXIX The purifying influence of The Pilgrim's Progress may be traced in the writ- ings of many imaginative authors. How does it in several parts beautify the admirable tale of Uncle Tom and his Cabin. In that inimitable scene, the death of the lovely Eva, the distressed negro, watching with intense anxiety the pro- gress of death, says, " When that blessed chUd goes into the kingdom, they '11 open the door so wide, we'll all get a look in at the glory." Whence comes this strange idea, not limited to the poor negro, but felt by thousands who have watched over departing saints ? It comes from the entrance of Christian and Hopeful into the celestial city — " I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun ; the streets, also, were paved with gold, and in them they walked with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises, which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them." Thousands of Christians have shed tears of joy at this glimpse of an eternal weight of glory. In 1682, Bunyan published his incomparable allegory. The Holy War; and, two years later, he completed his Pilgrim's Progress with the journey of Chris- tiana, her four boys, and her lovely companion, Mercy. As his active and invaluable life drew towards its close, his labours were redoubled. His long imprisonment must have undermined his robust frame. He closed his affection- ate advice to his beloved flock on their Christian behaviour : — " Thus have I written to you before I die, to provoke you to faith and holiness, and to love one another when I am deceased, and shall be in Paradise, as, through grace, I com- fortably believe; yet it is not there, but here I must do you good." The blandishments and threatenings of James II. were escaped by his watchfulness, lest " his inward man should catch cold." In his last days, he aimed a deadly thrust at Satan, by preparing for the press a fearless treatise on Antichrist, and his Ruin. His popularity was very great. When he preached in Loudon, his SOHTHWARK MEETING. congregation was much more numerous than the meetinghouse would hold. One of his contemporaries states, that about 1200 attended a morning lecture on a week-day, in the winter, at seven o'clock, and on the Lord's-day about 3000 " so that he was pulled almost over people to get into the pulpit." THE DOOR OF liUNYAN S PRISON, Still preserved in lledford. BUNYAN S VESTHY CHAIR, Used tiy every pastor of the Church to the present day. Like all popular men, he suffered from the tongue of slander. He was called a wizard, a Jesuit, a highwayman. The affecting narrative of Agnes Beaumont detects some of these wicked aspersions. " These I glory in," said Bunyan, " because they are false." Eeturninghome from a visit of mercy to Reading, to reconcile an offended father to his son, he was seized with a fatal fever, at the house of a friend, Mr. Strudwick, of London. His resignation was most exem- plary; his desire was to depart and be with Christ. He felt the ground in passing the black river; and followed his pilgrims into the Celestial City on the 31st of August, 1688. His birth year witnessed the " Bill of Eights;" his death year the deliverance of England from Popish tyranny. His remains lie in Bunhill Fields, under a table tomb. SACKED TO THE JTEMOUY OF JQFIN UOKTiH. RELICS OF JOHN BUNYAN IN POSSESSION OF THE EDITOR. CABINET. \ PKX-CASE. SCOOP. KNIFE, BLCJa,E. SCALES. bllAi.!. oaSE. BUNYAN'S WORKS, IN THE OUDER IN WHICH THEY WERE PUBLISHED. Tliose with a ( t] were published while the Author was in prison. The letter [p] sig- nifies that the Treatise is in poetry. 1 Gospel Truths opened . . 1656 2 A Vindication of Gospel Truths opened 1657 3 A Few Sighs from Hell; or, The Groans ofa Damned Soul .. 16.58 4 The Doctrine of the Law and Grace unfolded 1660 5il will Pray with the Spirit . . 1663 6t A Map showing the Order and Causes of Salvation and Damnation TfOne Thing is needful ; or, Serious Meditations upon the Four Last Things [p] SfEbal and Gerizzim; or, The Blessuig and the Curse [p] 9tPrisou Meditations directed to the Heart of Sufi'ering Saints and Suffer- ing Sinners [p] .. .. 1665 lOfThe Holy City; or, The New Jerusalem 1665 llfThe Resurrection of the Dead, and Eternal Judgment . . . . 1665 12tGrace abounding to the Chief of Sin- ners . 1666 13t Justification by Faith in Jesus Christ, showing that True Gospel Holiness flows from thence . . . . 1672 14tA Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my Practice ; or, With Who I can hold Church Fellowship 1672 15 Differences in Judgment about Water Baptism no Bar to Communion 1673 16 Peaceable Principles and True 1674 17 The Doctrine of Eternal Election and Reprobation asserted, 4to 18 Light for Them that sit in Darkness 1674 19 Chi-istian Behaviour, being the Fruits of True Christianity . . 1674 20 Instruction for the Ignorant, being a Salve to Cure that great Want of Knowledge which so much reigns in Young and Old .. .. 1675 21 Saved by Grace .. .. 1675 22 The Strait Gate ; or. The Great Diffi- culty of going to Heaven . . 1676 23 The Pilgrim's Progress, Part the First 1678 24 A Ti-eatise of the Fear of God 1679 25 The Life and Death of Mr. Badman 1680 26 Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ 1681 27 The Holy War 1682 28 The Barren Fig Tree ; or. The Doom and Downfall of the Fruitless Pro- fessor 29 The Greatness of the Soul, and Un- speakableness of the Loss thereof 1683 30 ACase of Conscience resolved Whether Women may hold Prayer Meetings without Men, 4to. .. .. 1GS3 81 A Caution to stir up to watch against Sin [p] 16S3 32 Advice to Sufferers; or, Seasonable Counsel 1684 33 The Pilgrim's Progress, Part 2nd 1684 34 A Holy Life, the Beauty of Christi- anity 1684 35 A Discourse upon the Pharisee and the Publican 1685 36 A Book for Boys and Girls ; or. Coun- try Rhymes for Children — afterwards entitled " A Book for Boys and Girls ; or. Temporal things Spiritualized;" at last, in 1724 it was published as "Divine Emblems; or. Temporal things Spiritualized " [p] 37 Nature and Perpetuity of the Seventh day Sabbath, and Proof that the First day is the True Christian Sabbath 1685 38 The Jerusalem Sinner Saved ; or. Good News for the vilest of Men. . 1688 39 The Work of Jesus Christ .as an Ad- vocate clearly explained . . 16S8 40 A Discourse of the Building, Nature. Excellency and Government of the House of God [pj .. .. 1688 41 The Water of Life .. .. 1688 42 Solomon's Temple Spiritualized 1688 43 The Acceptable Sacrifice ; or. The Ex- cellency of a Broken Heart . . 1689 44 Last Sermon Preached at London 1688 Posthumous Works prepared by Bun- yan for the Press, and Published soon aftei- his discease by Chandler, Wilson and Doe 1691 45 An Exposition on the Ten First Ch.ap- ters of Genesis (The Creation Spirit- ualized) 46 Justification by Imputed Righteous ness 47 Paul's Departure and Crown 48 Of the Trinity, and a Christian 49 Of the Law, and a Christian 50 Israel's Hope Encouraged 51 The Desires of the Righteous Granted 62 Christ's Love, and Tlie Saint's Know- ledge — The Unsearchable Riches of Christ ; or, Throne of Grace 53 Christ a Complete Saviour in his In- tercession 54 Tlie Saint's Knowledge of Christ's Love 55 The House in the Forest of Lebanon Spiritualised 56 A Description of Antichrist 57 The Heavenly Footman 58 Bunyan's Dying Sayings 59 Scriptural Poems and Paraphrases [p) 60 Bunyan's Relation of his Imprison- ment, Examinations, and Efforts of his Wife for his Dehverance. Elegy and Acrostic Besides, A Christian Dialogue, A Pocket Concordance, and otlier Manuscripts which have not been published. 33 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. When at the first I took my pen in hand Thiis for to WTite, I did not understand That I at all should make a little book In such a mode ; nay, I had luxdertook 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 crowai ; 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 '11 put you by yourselves, lest you at last Shoidd prove ad infinitum, 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 iindertake Thereby to please my neighbour : no, not I ; I did it my o%vn 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, ha\-ing now my method by the end. Still as I pulled, it came ; and so I penned It dowTi : until it came at last to be. For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. \ 34 rnE autuor's apologt. "Well, -when I had thus put mine ends together, I showed them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify : And some said, Let them live ; some. Let them die ; Some said, Joun, 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, Smce you are thus divided, I print it will, and so the case decided. For, thought I, some, I see, would have it done, Though others ui 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 brethi-en pleased with it be, Forbear to judge till you do farther 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 Avaters, 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 her frmt None can distinguish this from that : they suit Her well when hungry ; but, if she be full. She spews out both, and makes their blessings 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 engiiie can make thine : THE AUTHOU S APOLOGY. 35 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 r Yet there 's none of these Will make him master of ■\\ hat fowls he please. Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this; Yet, if he does so, that bird he Avill miss. If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster-shell ; If things that promise nothing do contain ■\\Tiat better is than gold ; who ■v^•ill disdain, That have an inkling" of it, there to look, That they may find it ? Now, my little book (Though void of all these paintings' that may make It with this or the other man to take) Is not ^\ithout those things that do excel What do in brave' but empty notions dweU. " Well, yet I am not fully satisfied. That this youj book will stand, when soundly tried." \\Tiy, what's the matter? "It is dark." ^Miat though?* " But it is feigned." ^\Tiat 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 dro-\vn the weak ; metaphors make us blind." Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that wi-iteth things divine to men ; But must I needs want solidness, because By metaphors I speak r Were not God's laws, His gospel laws, in olden times held forth By types, shadows, and metaphors ? Yet loath Will any sober man be to find fault With them, lest he be found for to assault The highest msdom. 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 hi them be. Inkling— sliglit knowledge. * The first editions had no cuts or uinainents. ilrave — sliowy, osteutatious. <* What though it be dark? 3G THE autdoe's apology. j I Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude ] That I want solidness — that I am rude ; All things solid in show not solid be ; All things in parables despise not we ; Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, And things that good are, of our souls bereave. My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. The prophets used much by metaphors To set forth truth ; yea, 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 .1 He findeth any ; yea, and let him know, < That in his best things there are worse lines too. | May we but stand before impartial men, To his poor one I dare adventure ten, ; That they will take my meaning in these lines j Far better than his lies in silver shrines. Come, truth, although in swaddling clouts, I find, Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind ; Pleases the imderstanding, makes the will • Submit ; the memory too it doth fill With what doth our imaginations please ; Likewise it tends our troubles to appease. . Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use, 1 And old wives' fables he is to refuse ; But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid The use of parables ; in which lay hid Thar 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, I Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had ! Put forth my matter in another di-ess ? • I Or, that I had in things been more express ? ^ ' The Bible, which filled a desolate prison with wondi'ous visions of heavec with angels, and the presence of the Eternal. THE ATJTHOB's APOLOGY. 37 Three things let me propoiind ; 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 suniLitude, 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 imto 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, ciirsed 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 gmde our mind and pens for his design ? And he makes base things usher in divine. 3. I find that holy writ in many places Hath semblance with this method, where the cases Do call for one thing, to set forth another ; Use it I may, then, and yet nothing smother Truth's golden beams : nay, by this method may Make it cast forth its rays as light as day. And now before I do put up my pen, I '11 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 ujidone, also what he does ; It also shows you how he nms 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 ol tain ; Here also you may see the reason why They lose their labour, and like fools do die. 38 THE authoe's apology. This book -will make a traveller of thee, If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be It A\-ill direct thee to the Holy Land, If thou ■ftilt its dii'ections understand : Yea, it -will make the slothful active be ; The blind also delightful things to see. Art thou for something rare and profitable ? "Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable ? Art thou forgetful ? AVouldest' 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 -wTit m such a dialect As may the minds of listless men affect : It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but soimd and honest gospel strains, Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy r "Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? "Wouldst thou read riddles, and their explanation ? Or else be drowned in thy contemplation ? Dost thou love picking meat ? Or wouldst thou see A man i' the cloiids, and hear him speak to thee ? Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep ? Or wooldst thou in a moment laugh and weep ? Wouldest thou lose thyself and catch no harm, And find thyself again -without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou knowest not what, And yet know whether thou art blest or not. By reading the same lines ? Oh, then come hither, And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. JOHN BUNYAN. i How richly did Milton enjoy spiritual visions of God and of eternal bliss, while his blindness shrouded to him the world in impenetrable darkness. THE PILGEIM'S PEOGEESS, IN THE SIMILITUDE OE A DEEAM. AS I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a Den, and I 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 Avith 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. Ixiv. 6 ; Luke xiv. 33 ; Psa. xxxviii. 4 ; Hab. ii. 2. I looked, and saw him open the book, and read tjierein ; and, as he read, he wept, and trembled ; and, not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, " AV'hat shall I do ? " Acts ii. 37 ; xn. 30,31. Hisouta.y. In this plight, therefore, he went home and refraiaed him- self as long as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent bng, because that his trouble increased. Wherefore at lengtA he brake his mind to his wife and children ; and thus he began to talk to them. my dear wife, said he, and you " Che. Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, because that ALL which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy, 2 Cor. v. 17 ; 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 XV. 17. Come away, and prove my words. Obst, What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them ? Chb. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, 1 Pet. i. 4, and it is laid up in heaven, and of the flesli." [63] ' "When God made me sigh, they would hearken, and in- quiringly say, AVhat's the matter -with Jolna ? Tliey also gave their various opin- sons of me." [38] '" Objection. If I thus run, it must be from all my friends, for none of them are running this way. Ans. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into the bosom of Christ and of God. OhJ. But if I do, it will be from all my sins. Ans. That's true, indeed; jet, if thou dost not, thou wilt run into hell fire. Ohj. But I shall be mocked of all my neighbours. Ans. If thou lose heaven, God will mock at thy calamity. Obj. But surely I may begin this a year or two hence. Ans. Hast thou any lease of thy life? Art thou a wise man, to let thy immortal soul hang over bell by a thread that may be cut asunder by death 1 THE PIXGElil's PEOGEESS. 43 safe there, Heb. xi. 16, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Eead it so, if you -will, in my book. Obst. Tush ! said Obstinate, away with your book ; will you go back with us or no ? Che. No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough. Luke is. 62. Obsx. Come, then, neighbour 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. Prov. xxvi. 16. 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 neighbour. Obst. What! more fools still! Be ruled by me, and go back; who knows whither such a brain-sick feEow will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be wise. Che. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour. Pliable ; there are such things to be had which 1 spoke r\^stL n and of, and many more glories besides." If you be- obstinate puU tor , . ' -^ , , • . 1 • 1 1 1 ,. PHable's soul. lieve not me, read here m this book; and for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold, all is con. firmed by the blood of Him that made it. Heb. ix. 17 — 22 ; xiii. 20. Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to come to a point ; I intend to go along with this Pliable contented good man, and to cast in my lot with him : but, tia,n° '"'' my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place ? Che. 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 neighbour, let us be going. Then they went both together. " " Tliey shall have the bosom of Christ to lie in, tlie kingdom of heaven to dwell in, the angels and saints for their companions ; shall shine there Lie the sun, shall be there for ever, and shall sit upon the thrones of judgment." "4] 44 THE PILGEIM's PEOaEESS. obstinategoea ^BST. And I will go back to my place, said railing back. 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 Christian and the plain : and thus they began their dis- Pliablc. f ' J to course. Che. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do ? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me. Had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back. Pi/i. Come, neighbour Christian, since there are none but us two here, tell me now further what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. Che. I can better conceive of them with my mind, than God'3 things iin- Speak of them with my tongue: but yet, since speakabie. ^^^ ^^^ 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 ? Che. Yes, verily ; for it was made by Him that cannot lie. Tit. i. 2. Pli. Well said ; what things are they ? Che. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit that kin^-- dom for ever. Isa. xlv. 17 ; John x. 28, 29. Pli. Well said ; and what else ? Che. There are crowns of glory to be given us, and gar- ments that will make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven. 2 Tim. iv. 8 ; Eev. iii. 4 ; Matt. xiii. 43. Pli. This is very pleasant ; and what else ? Che. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow : for He that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes Isa. XXV. 6 — 8 ; Eev. vii. 17 ; xxi. 4. Pli. And what company shall we have there ? Che. There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them. Isa. vi. 2. There also you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands THE riLGEIil's PEOGEKSS, 45 that have gone before us to tliat place ; none of tliem are hurtful, but loving and holy ; every one walking iu the sight of Grod, and standing in his pi-esence with acceptance for ever. 1 Thess. iv. 16, 17; Eev. v. 11. In a word, there we shall see the elders wath their golden crowns, Eev. iv. 4 ; there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden harps, Uev. xiv. 1 — 5 ; there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment, John xii. 25 ; 2 Cor. V. 4. 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 ? p Chk. The Lord, the Governor of the country, hath recorded that in this book ; the substance of which is. If we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely. Isa, Iv. 1, 2 ; John vi. 37 ; vii. 37 ; Eev. xxi. 6 ; xxii. 17. Pli. "Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things : come on, let us mend our pace.? Che. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is on my back.'" JS'ow, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk they drew near 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 '^^respoud."^ 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.* » " sinner, sinner, there are better things than hell to he had; there is hea- ven, there is God, there is Christ, there is communion with saints and angels.' [3] p"0 sinner, -what sajest thou, dost tliou like being saved? Doth not thy mouth water? Doth not thy heart twitter?" [21] ? What a volume is contained in this touch of the pencil — Pliable is for entering heaven at once, while Cliristian groans under his burden. •■ " What an intolerable burden is guilt, it breaks the heart. Satan makes the uttermost of every sin ; he can make every hair like a cedar. He makes it a lieiiious offence." [53] • " Oh, how gingerly did I go. I found myself as on a miry bog, that sliook if I did but st'r; and was there left both of God and Christ, and the Spirit." [13t, 46 THE pilguim's peoquess. Pli. Then said Pliable, Ali ! neighbour 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 betwixt 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 "tobTjuabie"^ 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 endeavoured to troubfj^'seeka stiu struggle to that side of the slough that was togotftirtherfrom ^-^ farther from his own bouse, and next to ills own uouse. ' 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 ? Che. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to come ; and as I was going thither I fell in here. „, „ . Help. But why did not you look for the steps? The Promises. j j r Che. Pear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in. Help. Then said he. Give me thy hand : so he gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set him upon Help lifts him up. , t ii-ii. ^ • r-. sound ground, and bid mm go on his way. Psa. xl. 2. Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore, since over this place is the way from the City of Destruction to yonder gate, is it that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security ? And No. 82.] " Guilt is a burden, the devil and sin, and the curse of the law, are gotten upon the shoulders of this poor man, and are treading of liim down, that he iii&,y sink into and be swallowed up of liis miry place." Job xli. 30. [54] THE pilgeim's peogkess. 47 he said unto me, This mirj slough is such a placG as can- not be mended ; it is the descent whither the ^j^^^ makes th scum and filth that attends conviction for sin siougu of De- spond, doth continually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond ; for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth 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. xxxv. 3, 4. His labourers also have, by the direction of His Majesty's surveyors, been for above these sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended : yea, and to my know- ledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand cart-loads, yea, millions of wholesome instructions, that have at all seasons been brought from all places of the King's dominions, and they that can tell, say they are the best materials to malce 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 foJ'Jvenesf and as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it |J'"'f^trin chi-ist" 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. xii. 23. Now, I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his house again, so that his neighbours came to visit him ; and some of them called him wise man for „,. ^, , , • Pliable got homo commg back, and some called him fool for and is visited of hazarding himself with Christian : others again ^'^^^^ did mock at his cowardliness; saying, Surely, since you oegan to venture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficulties. So Pliable His entertain- Bat sneaking among them. But at last he got wsrct'.^u^""' "''■ 48 THE PILGEIM'S PROGIIESS, more confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. Now, as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, he espied one afar off, come crossing over the field to meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way of each other. The gentleman's name that met Mr. Worldly Wise- ^ r ttt- i iT -nr- i J M. ■ - r.ian meets with him was Mr. Worldly VV iseman : he dwelt in Chiistian. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^. Q^^.^^1 Policy, a very great town, and also hard-by from whence Christian came. This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling of him, —for Christian's setting forth from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but also it began to be the town talk in some other places,— Mr. Worldly A¥iseman, therefore, having some guess of him, by be- holding his laborious going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with Christian. WoELD. How now, good fellow, whither away after this . ,„ burdened manner ? ' T:^Ik betwixt Mr. . , -, ^ • j j Wc.ridiy Wiseman Chk. A burdened manner, indeed, as ever, and Chiistian. ^ ^^^.^^^^^ ^^^^ crcaturo 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. WoELD. Hast thou a wife and children ? Cke. Yes ; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly ; methinks I am as if I had none. 1 Cor. vii. 29. WoELD. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give tliee counsel ? Che. If it be good, I will ; for I stand in need of good counsel. WoELD. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed jret thvself rid of thy burden ; for thou Avilt Mr. Worldly t' •; ,ji i • li • i j.-n j-i Wiseman's coun- ncver be Settled m thy mmcl till then; nor Bci to Christian. ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^.^^ ^j^^ benefits of the blessing which God hath bestowed upon thee till then. Cue. That is that which I seek, for even to be rid of this « " A sight of himself (so bemired) being a discovery of the naughtiness of Lis heart, pride, deadness to gospel obedience, lies like mill-stones upon his shou'.ders, and sinks him yet further into doubts and fears of damnation." [21] THE PILGEIil's PEOGEESS. 49 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. WoELD. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden ? Che. a man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person ; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. WoELD. I beshrew him for his counsel ! there is not a more dangerous and troublesome way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee ; wiseman °'cou^ and that thou shalt find, if thou will be ruled f/t^^^^^La''"^'^' 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 why should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a straager ? Che. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things which you have The frame of the mentioned ; nav, methinks I care not what ^eait of a young I meet with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden. WoELD. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? Che. By reading this book in my hand. WoELD. I thought so ; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak men, who, meddling with things too ^oridiy^^iseman hich for them, do suddenly fall into thy dis- does not liUc that o . . 1 men shoulii bo tractions : which distractions do not only serious iu reading , . _ • 1 J J.1 *'lie Bible. unman men, as tlnne, I perceive, has done thee, but thoy run them upon desperate ventures to obtain they know not what. Cnu. I know what I would obtain ; it is case for my heavy burden." " Heavy as was his burden, strength was given him to bear it. " Thou shalt not have a bigger load than God will give thee shoulders to bear it" [3;i] 60 THE PTL&EIBi's PEOGBESS. "W'OELD. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing Whether Mr ^° niany dangers attend it? especially since, Worldly Wiseman j^adst thou but patience to hear me, I could prefers morality ^ , . . n i before the strait direct thee to the obtainmg 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. Chb, Pray, Sir, open this secret to me. AVoELD. 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 are from their shoulders : yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way; ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden ; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, where there are houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at reasonable rates ; provision is there also cheap and good ; and that which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit and good fashion." Now was Christian somewhat at a stand ; but presently he , concluded, if this be true, which this eentleman Christian snared , • i • • t i • i • by Mr. Worldly hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice ; Wiseman's words. . -.t n i t J^ r ji i and with that he thus lurther spoke. Che. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house ? . „. . Wo ELD. Do you see yonder hill ? Mount Sinai. •' •' Che. Yes, very well. * "To rely upon self-righteousness, however it may be in good jusMon,i3 as contrary to faith in Christ, as indulging the lusts of the flesh. The fonner is the wliite devil of pride, the latter, the black devil of rebellion." THE PILGEIM'S PEOGEESS. SI WoELD. By tliat hill you must go, and the first house you tome 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 hni, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was next the wayside, did hang so much over, that christian afraid Christian was afraid to venture further, lest the ^^^i^ f^i" oh'ms 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, Tliere came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned. Ex. xix. 16, ISv Here, therefore, he sweat and did quake for fear. Heb. xii. 21. ^Vllen Christians unto carnal men give ear, Out of their way they go, and pay for 't dear ; Tor Master Worldly Wiseman can hut show A. saint the way to bondage and to woe. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel. And with that he Evangelist find- saw Evangelist coming to meet him; at the eth omstiau^un- sieht also of whom he began to blush for and looketh se- ^ _, 1 . , , 1 verely upon him. shame. So Evangehst 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. EvAK. What dost thou here. Christian? said he: at which words Christian knew not what to answer; E^^^ggUgt ^ea- wherefore at present he stood speechless before ^°]^^.gj^^'|^^^'^ '"'■^ him. Then said Evangelist further. Art not thou the man that I found crying without the walls of the City of Destruction? Che. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. EvAJsr. Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket- gate? Che. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. EvAK. How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned aside ? for thou art now out of the way. '"Wotted," knew. » " The remembrance of what we saw, felt, feared and trembled under when our first fears were upon us, is that which will produce in our hearts godly filial fear." 52 THE pilgrim's progeess. Chr. I met witli a gentleman so soon as I had get ever 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 loaden 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 there- fore going to yonder gate, to receive further direction how I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said that he would show me a better way, and short, not so attended with difficul- ties 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 may show thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, "See that ye refuse not him that speaketh Eor if they escaped not who refused him that s])ake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven." Heb. xii. 25. He said, moreover, " Now the just shall live by faith : but if any man draw back, _ ,. ^ mv soul shall have no pleasure in him." Heb. Evanselist con- -^ '^ Tinccs Christian of j. 38. He also did thus apply them: Thou art his error. , . . the man tuat art running into this misery ; " They bok as gentle as lamlis, wliile tlie poison of asps is under tlieir tongucw THE PILaEIil's PEOGEESS. 53 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 foot as dead, crying, " Woe is me, for I am undone ! " At the sight of which. Evangelist caught him by tlie right hand, saying, " All manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men." Matt. xii. 31, Mark iii. 28 ; " Be not faithless, but believing." John xx. 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 ,, „ ,,, ^ _ Mr. Worldly noviT show thee who it was that deluded thee, Wiseman described 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 savoureth only the doctrine of this world, 1 John iv. 5, (therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to church) : and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross. Gral. vi. 12. And because he is of this carnal temper. Evangelist dis- therefore he seeketh to prevent my ways, though of^Mn* VoridTy right. Now there are three things in this man's '^'^eman. counsel, that thou must utterly abhor. 1. His turning thee out of the way. 2. His labouring to render the cross odious to thee. And, 3. His setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of death. Eirst, thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way • and thine own consenting thereto : because tlxis is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a Worldly Wise- man. The Lord says, "Strive to enter in at the strait gate," Luke xiii. 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. vii. 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. • " They have been to Mount Sinai for help, but found nothing there but fir^ and darkness, thunder and lightning, earthquake and trembling, and killing H-ords." [4] 54 TnE piLaniM's progress. Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it " before the trea- sures in Egypt." Heb. xi. 25, 26. Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that "will save his life shall lose it." Mark viii. 35 ; John xii. 25 ; Matt. x. 39. And, " He that Cometh after me, and hateth not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." Luke xiv. 26. I say, therefore, for man to labour to persuade thee, that that shall be thy death, without which, the truth hath said, thou canst not have eternal life ; this 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, Gral. iv. 21 — 27 ; The bond-woman. , . . ° , ^ , . , n • • n • , and IS, m a mystery, this mount omai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, if she, with iter 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 jus- tified 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, that made the hair of his flesh stand up. The words were thus pronounced : ' As many as are of the w^orks of the law are under the curse ; for it is written, Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things THE PILGEIM S PE0GEES8. OS? which, are written in the book of the law to do them.' '^ Gal, iii. 10. I^ow Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to cry out lamentably ; even cursing the time in which he met with Mr. "Worldly "Wiseman ; stiU calling himself a thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel : he also was greatly ashamed to think that this gentleman's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with him as to cause him to forsake the right way. This done, he appHed himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as foUow : — CnK. Sir, what think you ? Is there hope ? May I now go back and go up to the wicket-gate ? Shall christian in- I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from q^^ifos if he may 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 Evangelist com- 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.' Psa. ii. 12. Then did Christian address himself to go back ; and Evangelist, after lie 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 tread- ing on forbidden ground, and could by no means think him- self safe, till again he was got into the way which he left, to follow Mr. "Worldly Wiseman's counsel. So, in process of time Christian got up to the gate. ]S"ow, over the gate there was written, * Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.' Matt. vii. 8. " Tie that will enter in must first -without Stand knocking at the Gate, nor need he doubt That is A KNOCKER but to enter in ; For God can love him, and forgive his sin." * " If 1 were better, then I could believe. This is to be righteous that I may come to Christ. O man, thou must beliave because there is nothing in thee thai is good, and not stand off because thou canst not boy him." [4] 56 TEE pilgrim's peooress. He knoclced, therefore, more tlian once or twice, savinsr — " May I now enter here ; Will lie within Open to sorry me, though I have been An undeserving rebel ? Then shall I Not fail to slug his lasting praise on high." At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Good- vrill, who asked who was there ? and whence he came ? and what he would have ? " Cur. 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- WILL. I am willing with all my heart. The gate will be . ^ • ^ ^ j ^ i , opened to broken- Said he ; and With that he opened the gate. hearted sinners. c< ^ r^^ • i- ± • -ji ji bo 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 Satan envies _ ° ' those that enter the Captain : ffom thcncc, both he and them that the strait gate. r , , . , are with him shoot arrows at those that come up to this gate, if haply tliey may die before they can enter in.'' _, . ^. ^ , Then said Christian, I reioice and tremble. Christian entered / •> the gate with joy So whcu he was got in, the man of the gate asked him who directed him thither ? Che, Evangelist bid me come hither, and knock (as I did) ; and he said that you. Sir, would tell me what I must do. Good-will. An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it. * " This gate is wide enough to admit all the sincere lovers of Jesus Christ, but so strait that it will keep all others out. The gate of Eden was wide enough for Adam and his wife to go out at, yet it was too strait for them to go in at. Why ? They had sinned; and the cherubim and the flaming sword made it too strait for them. The gates of the temple were six cubits wide, yet they were so strait that none who were unclean might enter them." [2'2] <* " A whole heaven and eternal life is wrapped up in this little word in — ' Strive to enter in ; ' this calls for the mind and heart. Many make their striving to stand rather in an outcry of words, than in a hearty labour against the lusts and love of the world. But this kind of Striving is but a beating of the air, and will come to nothing." [22] THE PILGUIit's rnOGEESS. 57 Che. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my Talk between ° -^ Good-will and hazards. christian. GooD-"WiLL. But how is it that you came alone ? Che. Because none of my neighbours saw their danger, as I saw mine. Good-will. Did any of them know of your coming ? Che. Tes ; my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after me to turn again ; also, some of my neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return ; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came on my way. G-ooD-wiLL. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back ? Che. Tes, 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-will. But why did he not come through ? Che. We, indeed, came both together, until we came at the Slough of Despond, into the which we also ^j^an may have suddenly fell. And then was my neighbour, company when Pliable, discouraged, and would not adventure heaven, and yet go further. "Wherefore, getting out again on that 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-will. Then said Good-will, Alas, poor man ! is the celestial glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazards of a few difilculties to obtain it ? Che. 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 christian accus- It is true, he went back to his own house, but I the ^man'^at'' u^e also turned aside to go in the way of death, ^**®' being persuaded thereto by the carnal arguments of one Mr. 'Worldl}'- Wiseman. Good-will. Oh ! did he light upon you ? "What ! he would have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. Legality. * " No betterment " is an admii-able expression of the Christian's humility. S 58 THE PIIGEIM'3 PEOailESS. They are, both, of them, a very cheat. But did you take his couusel ? Che. 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-will. 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. Che. AVhy, 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 Grod'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 deatli, by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord; but, oh, what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here ! GrOOD-wiLL. We make no objections against any, notwith- christinn com- Standing all that they have done before they lorted again, came hither. They are " in no wise cast out," John vi. 37 ; and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. ch 'sti n directed 1^0°^ before thee ; dost tliou see this narrow yet on his way. -^^ay ? That is the way thou must go ; it was cast np by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles ; and it is as straight as a rule can make it. This is the way thou must go. Christian afraid of C^E. But, Said Christian, are there no turn- losing his way. {j^gg or windings, by which a stranger may lose his way ? GooD-wiiL. Tes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked and wide. But thus thou mayest dis- tinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being straight and narrow. Matt. vii. 14. Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further Christian wcaiy of i^ ^^ ^ould not help him ofi" with his burden his bmdea. that was upou liis back ; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he by any means get it ofi" without help. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 59 He told him, As to thy burden, be content to There is uo dou- bear it, until thou comest to the place of de- ^iiflnd' burden liverance; for there it wiU faU from thy back of death'and^bod^of itself. Christ. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. So the other told him, That by that he was gone some distance from the gate, he would come at the house of the Interpreter, at whose door he should knock, and he would show him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his friend, and he again bid him Grod-speed. Then he went on till he came to the house of the Inter- preter, where he knocked over and over; at fit, • ■ last one came to the door, and asked who was to the house of the .1 Interpreter. luere. Che. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaint- ance of the good- man of this house to caU 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. Che. 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 a help to me in my journey.^ He is entertained. Intee. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will show 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 sawthe picture ofavery grave person christian sees a hang up against the wall; and this was the grave picture. * It would be difficult to find any pages in the English language that contain such volumes of meaning, in such beautiful and instructive lessons, with such heavenly imagery, in so pure and sweet a style, and with so thrilling an appeal 1,0 the best affections of the heart, as these pages descriptive of Christian's so- journing in the house of the Interpreter. ff As in creation, so in conversion, God's command is, " Let there be light ; " it comes by the Word ; no Bible, no light. God divided the light ft-om the darkness; a blessed mystery, to prove the Claistian indeed —at variance with his native darkneoa. 60 THE pilgeim's peogeess. The fashion of the ^^sbion of it. It liad eyes lifted up to heaven, picture. the best of books in his hand, the law of truth was written upon his lips, the world was behind his back. It stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over his head.* Che. Then said Christian, "What meaneth this ? Intee. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand , he can beget children, 1 Cor. iv. 15, travail in birth with children, Gal. iv. 19, and nurse them himself when they are born. And whereas thou 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 tilings to sinners ; even as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men ; and whereas thou seest The meaning of the world as cast behind him, and that a the picture, crown haugs over his head, that is to show thee that slighting and despising the things that are pre- sent, for the love that he hath to his Master's service, he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory for his reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have showed thee this picture first, because the man whose picture him the picture this is, is the ouly 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 iu thy journey thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death. Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour that was full of dust, because never swept ; the which after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called 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 the water, and sprinkle the room ; * The riEST object presented by the Holy Spirit 'x the mind of a believer, is the choice of his minister. A lover of his Bible , uninfluenced by pelf or worldly honours; pleading patiently to win souls; seeking only to win his Master's approbation ; souls for his hire ; an immortal crown for his reward. THE PILGEIM'S PEOGEESS. 61 the which, when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with j)leasure. Che. Then said Christian, "What means this ? Intee. The Interpreter answered, This parlour is the heart of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the gospel; the dust is his original sin and inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He that began to sweep at first, is the Law ; but she that brought water, and did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. I-fow, 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, put strength into, and increase it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it, for it doth not give power to subdue.* Eom. vii. 6, 1 Cor. xv. 56, Eom. v. 20. 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 pre- cious 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 xv. 3, Eph. v. 26, Acts xv. 9, Eom. xvi. 25, 26 ; John xv. 13. 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 ^ ^ ' -r-, • 1 j_i ^^ showed him name of the eldest was Passion, and the name Passion and Pa- of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much discontented; but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, What is the reason of the passionwiuiiave discontent of Passion ? The Interpreter an- all now. Patience , , , . IS for waiting. swered, The Governor of them would have him ' Here the sweet influences of the gospel are imaged ; Divine grace distilling as the dew ; the gentle voice of Christ hushing the storm ; the corruptions of tha heart, yielding under the power of Christ; the soul made clean, and fit for the Eiag of glory to inhobit This is a most instructive emblem. 62 THE pilgkim's peoqeess. Etay 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 Passion has Ms °^ treasure, and poured it down at his feet, the desire, which he took up and rejoiced therein, and And quickly withal laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld ^^' but a while, and he had lavished all away and had nothing left him but rags. Chb. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to nie. Inteb. So he said, These two lads are figures : Passion, of The matter ex- ^^^ ^^^n of this WO rid ; and Patience, of the pounded. jjjgQ Qf ^^^^ which is to come ; for as here thou seest. Passion will have all now this year, that is to say, in this world ; so are the men of this world : they must have all their good things now, they cannot stay till next year, that is, until the next world, for their portion of good. That proverb, " A The worldly man ^^^^ ^^ *^^ ^^'^^ ^^ worth two in the bush," is hand. ^^'^ '"" *^° ^^ ^°^^ 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. Che. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the Patience has the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts. best wisdom. pj^g^^ because he stays for the best things. Second, and also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags. Intee. 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 Things that are . . ^ first must give his time to comc : but last gives place to no- place ; but things n ^ • i that are last are thmg ; lor 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, " Thou in THE PILGEIM S PEOGEESS. 63 tliy lifetijie receivedst tliy good things, and Dives had his good likewise Lazarus evil things ; but now he is ^^^'^ss first. comforted, and thou art tormented." Luke xvi. 25. Che. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come. Intee. Tou say the truth : " For the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things which are not seen -me first things are eternal." 2 Cor. iv. 18. But thouo-h this ^'^ ''"*' ^mporaL be so, yet since things present and our fleshy appetite are such near neighbours 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 extin- guish and put it out, is the Devil ; but in that thou seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of 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, Avith the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun in tne heart : by the means of which, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his people prove gracious still. 2 Cor. xii. 9. And in that thou sawest that the man stood behind } This instructive vision springs from the author's experience. The flamo c/ love iu ft Christian's heart, is like the fire of despair in Satan's spirit— unquencli- able. Before Bunyan had been behind the wall, the tempter suggested to him— " You ai-e very hot for mercy, but I will cool you ; though I be seven years in chilling your heart I can do it at last; I will have you cold before long." But he is the father of lies. Tims Jie said to Christian in the fight, " Here will I spill thy soul ;" )u«tead of which, Apollyon was put to flight. [12t, 110.] 64 THE PILGEIM's PIIOGEESS. the wall to maiutain the fire, that is to teach thee that it i3 hard for the tempted to sec how this work of grace is maintained in the soul. I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by tlie hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately- palace, beautiful to behold ; at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted. He saw also, upon the top thereof, certain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold. Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the palace ; and behold, at the door stood a great com- pany 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 name of him that should enter therein ; he saw also, that in the door- way stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now v/as 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 man. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ there to write, saying, " Set down my name. Sir: "* the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put an helmet upon his head, and rush toward 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, he cut his way through them all. Acts xiv. 22, 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 ahalt 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. ' * There were noble spirits, " of very stout countenance," that by the sword of the Spirit cut their way through aU opposition. Bunyan was one of these worthies. ' Verily thou didst, noble Christian ! Persecution, imprisonment, and even the threats of an ignominious death did not deter thee. How full of THE PILGEIil's PEOGEESS. 65 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 Despair Uke 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. Che. What wast thou once ? Man. The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing pro- fessor, both in mine own eyes, and also in tlie eyes of otliers ; I once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither, Luke viii. 13. Che. Well, but what art thou now ? Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it, as m this iron cage. I cannot get out. Oh, now I cannot ! Che. But how camest thou in this condition ? Man. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the Word and the goodness of God ; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me ; I have pro- voked Grod 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. Nay, said Christian, pray. Sir, do you. Intee. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in the iron cage of despair ? instruction is this passage ! It set Christian's own heart on fire to run forward on his journey, although the battle was before him. " I must remember tha man tliat cut his way through his armed enemies, and do myself likewise." [25] The meaning of this, " There are two errors about the law, one is when men think to enter the strait gate by its righteousness; the other is when men think they may enter without leave of the law. The angels wiU make his entrance too strait for both the unjustified and the unsanctilieJ." [2'2] 00 THE PILGEm S PEOGliESS. 1\Ia5T. No, none at all. Intee. "Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful., Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh, Heb. vi. G ; I Lave despised his person, Luke xix. 14 ; I have despised hia righteousness ; I have " counted his blood an unholy thing ; " 1 have " done despite to the Spirit of Grace," Heb. x. 28, 29. Therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threat- enings, fearful threatenings of certain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.™ Intee. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? Mak. Por 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. Intee. 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 tbe world let me out. O eternity ; eternity ! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity ! Intee. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee. Che. "Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God help me to watcb and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause " This awful picture is of one -svlio for a timeis abandoned to despair, and who imagines it to be for eternity. It was said of Spira: — Here see a soul that's all deppair ; a man All hell ; a spirit all wounds : who can A wounded spirit bear ? Eeader, would'st see what you may never feel, Despair, racks, torments, whips of burning steel? Behold this man, the furnace in whose heart Sin hath created, hell. Oh, in each part What flames appear. His thoughts aU stings, words swords, Brimstone his breath ; His eyes flames, wishes curses, life a death ; A thousand deaths live in him, he not dead, A breathing corpse in living scalding lead. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 6T of this man's misery ! Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now ? " Intee. Tarry till I sliall 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 heayens 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 sit 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, 1 Cor. sv. 52 ; 1 Thes. iv. 16 ; Jude 14 ; John v. 28, 29 ; 2 Thes. i. 7, 8 ; Eev. xx. 11—14 ; Is. xxvi. 21 ; Micah vii. 16, 17; Ps. xcv. 1 — 3 ; Dan. vii. 10. Then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Tet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar, Mai. iii. 2, 3 ; Dan. vii. 9, 10. I lieard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, " Gather together the tares, the chafi", and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake," Matt. iii. 12; xiii. 30; Mai. iv. 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 iii. 17. And with that I saw many catched up « In the midst of these heavenly instructions, why in such haste to go ? Alasl the burden of sin upon his back pressed him on to seek deliverance. 68 THE PILGEIM's PE0GKES8. and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind, 1 Taes. iv. 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, E-om. ii, 14, 15. Upon this I awaked from my sleep. Che. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight i* Man. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was not ready for it : but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several, and left me behind ; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My con- science, too, afflicted me ; and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation iu his counte- nance." Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all these things ? Che. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear. Intee. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a goad iu 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, good Interpreter, to thee." Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Chris- tian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation, Is. xxvi. I. Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.? Bunyan profited much by dreams and visions. " In my childhood the Lord did scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me with dreadful visions." That is a striking vision of church-fellowship in [12] Nos. 53 — 56; aa awful dream is narrated in [29], " Once I dreamed that I saw two persons, whom I knew, in hell : and methought I saw a continual dropping from heaven, as of great diops of fire lighting upon them, to their sore distress. [29]. /""Some- THE PILaUIM'S PEOGEESS. 69 He ran thus till lie 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.J 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 'When God re- still awhile to look and wonder ; for it was very guilt and burden , 1 • J.1 J. J.1 • 1 J. i? j_i wears as thosethat surprising to him, that the sight oi the cross leap for joy. should thus ease him of his bui'den. He looked therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks, Zech. xii. lO.*" Xow, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three Shining Ones came to him and saluted him with "Peace be to thee." So the first said to him, " Thy sins be forgiven thee," Mark ii. 5 ; the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him " with change of raiment," Zech. iii. 4 ; the third also* set a mark on his times I have been so loaden with my sins, that I could not tell where to rest, nor ■what to do. Yea, at such times I thought it would have taken away my senses." [4] " Every height is a difficulty to him that is loaden ; with a burden, how shall we attain the heaven of heavens ? " [54] 1 " Doth unbelief quench thy graces? Faith kindleth them even into a flame. Doth Ttnbelief fill the soul full of sorrow? Faith fills it full of the joy of the Holy Ghost. In a word. Doth unbelief hind down thy sins upon thee ? Faith in Jesus Christ releaseth thee of them all." [46] »• " This efficacious sight of the cross is thus narrated in Grace Abounding, No. 115 : — " Travelling in the countrj', and musing on the wickedness and blasphemy of my heart, that scripture came into my mind, ' Having made peace through the blood of his cross.' Col. i. 20. I saw that day, again and again, that God and my soul were friends by his blood : yea that the justice of God and my soul could embrace and kiss each other." " Is it true that Christ was made a curse for me? hath borne all my sins? blessed tidings ! welcome grace ! Now is peace come ! Behold all things are become new. Now the sinner can abide God's presence; yea, sees unutterable glory and beauty in him." [18] * " Set a mark upon the foreheads of those that sigh and cry for all the abominations that be done." Ezek. ix. 4. When Christiana drew near the end of her journey she was comforted by the good conduct of her sons, saying, ' She read with comfort the mark that woh set on their foreheads.' The wicked have also their mark. ' Many go on in the broad way of sin and pro- faneness, bearing the tokens (Job xxi. 29 ) of their damnation on their foreheads Those whose daily practice proclaims that their steps take hold on he)!.' " [22 \ 70 THE pilgeim's PKOGEESS. I I forehead, and gave liim a roll witli a seal upon it, whicli he - bade him look on as he ran, and that he should give it in at i the Celestial Gate, Eph. i. 13. So they vrent their way/ i " Who 's this ? the Pilgi-im. How ! 'tis very true, | Old things are past away, all 's become new. i Strange ! he 's another man, upon my word, i They be fine feathers that make a fine bird. ! Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on ; singing— | " Thus far I did come laden with my sin ; i Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in i sin^gS'oih'rione" Tilll came hitlier : What a place is this ! , when God doth Must here be the beginning of my bliss ? I ff'his^h^art''^ J°y Must here the burden fall from off my back ? | Must here the strings that hound it to me crack? j Blest cross ! blest sepulchre ! blest rather be ; The man that there was put to shame for me ! " . I I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, even until I he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, ; three men fast asleep, vsdth fetters upon their '■ ^''^Presumption!'^ hcels. The name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, aad the tliird Presumption. | Christian then seeing them lie in this case went to them, if | ' None but those who have felt such bliss, can imagine the joy with which this heavenly visitation fills the soul. " They leaped and skipped for joy, and shouted, Let Emmanuel live for ever! So the bells did ring, and the people sing,- and the ; music go in every house in Mansoul." — Holy War. The Father receives the poor , penitent with, " Thy sins be forgiven thee." The Son clothes him with a spotless , righteousness. " The prodigal when he returned to his father was clothed in rags ; but the best robe is brought out, also the gold ring and the shoes; yea, they nre put upon him to his rejoicing." [26] The Holy Spirit gives him a certificate, thus described by Bunyan: — "But bring with thee a certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate ; Writ by the master, with repentance seal'd ; To show also, that here thou wouldst be healed By those fair leaves of thatmost blessed tree By which alone poor sinners healed be : And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways. And wouldst in holiness spend all thy days." £401 Such a certificate, written upon the heart by the Holy Spu-it, may be lost for a season, as in the arbour on the hill, but cannot be stolen even by Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt. For the mark in his forehead see 2 Cor. iii. 2, 3 ; " Not with Ink but with the Spirit of the living God, known and read of all men.' fltf. m te- ll' Christian belioUls the three Shining Ones.— P. 71. THE PILGEIM's PBOGEESS. 71 peradventure lie might awake them, and cried, You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea is under you— a gulf that hath no hottom, Prov. xxiii. 34. 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" comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth, 1 Pet. v. 8. "With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, " I see no danger ; " Sloth said, " Yet a little more sleep;" and Presumption said, suasion ^^l?do!^if " Every fat must stand upon its own bottom ; ^f eyes!''**'' """^ what is the answer else that I should give thee ? " And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way. Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the 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 tvv'o 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 christian talked with them into discourse. "^^^ ^^'"^■ Che. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither go you ? FoEM. and Hyp. "We were born in the laud of Yain-glory, and are going for praise to Mount Sion. Che. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning of the way ? Know you not that it is written, that he that comethnot in by the door, " butclimbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber ? " John x. 1. Poem, and Hxp. 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. Che. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate liis revealed will ? Poem, and Hyp. They told him, that, as for that, lie 72 THE pilgrim's peogeess. ^ ,, , needed not to trouble his liead thereabout; They that come t , , i i /• j into the way, but for what they did they had custom lor ; and think that'they'cai could produce, if need were, testimony that ^^ndfcaTionofUie'ir would wituess it for more than a thousand own practice. ^^^^^^ Che. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law ? FoEM. and Hyp. They told him, That custom, it being of so long a standing as above a thousand years, would, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal by any impartial judge ; and beside, said they, if we get into the way, what 's matter which W'ay we get in ? if we are in, we are in ; thou art but in the way, who, as Ave perceive, came in at the gate ; and we are also in the vray, that came tumbling over the wall ; wherein, now, is thy condition better than ours ? Che. I walk by the rule of my Master ; you walk by tlio 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. Tou come in by yourselves, without his direction ; and shall go out by your- selves, 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 they should as conscientiously do them as he ; therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. Che. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in by the door, Gral. ii. 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 naked- " " The formalist has only the shell of religion. The h)-pocrite is for God and Baal too. He cames fire in one hand, and -water in the other." [22] " These men are lilie wandering stai-s, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever. They are harren trees ; and the axe, whetted by sin and the law, will make deep gashes. Death sends Guilt, his first-bom, to bring them to the King of terrors." [28] THE pilgeim's peogbess. 73 ness with. And I take it as a token of his 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 got Ms Lord's coat will know me for good, since I have his coat on is° omfort^d therc- my back-a coat that he gave me freely in the 7J,tei,\'i^, w"h day that lie stripped me of my rags. I have, ^^ ^^^^ aud Ms 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 tlien 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 on all, save that Christian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that some- CMistian has talk . c T 1 With himself. times 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 „ ^ ^, •' ' _ Ho comes to the which was a spring. There were also in the nni uifficuitj'. 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, and drank thereof, to refresh himself, Isa. slix. 10, and tlien began to go up the hill, saying — "The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, The difficulty tvlII 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." It 76 THE pilgeim's peogkess. and, Mliug dowu upon his knees, he asked Grod's forgiveness for that his foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went hack, 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 re- freshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his com- „ ^. ,. , fort so many times in his journey. He went wails his foolish thus, till he Came again within sight of the sleeping. ° arbour where he sat and slept ; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. Rev. ii. 5. 1 Thes. v. 7, 8, Thus, therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, " wretched man that I am ! " that I should sleep in the day-time ! that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so 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 spu'its of pilgrims l'^ How many steps have I took in vain ! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin ; they were sent back again by the way of the E-ed 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 tliose 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. Oh, that I had not slept ! Now, by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept,; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking sorrowfully down under his rou where he the Settle, there he espied his roll ; the which '°^ ^ ■ he, with trembling and haste, catched up, and « " The backslider is attended with fears, such as he felt not before, built on the vileness of his backsliding ; more dreadful scriptures look liim in the face, with their dreadful physiognomy. His new sins all turn talking devils, threatening Jevils, roaring devils. He can tell strange stories, and yet such as are very true. No man can teU what is to be seen and felt in the whale's belly but Jonah." [53] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 77 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 Grod for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his jpurney. But oh, how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! Tet, 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 O 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, 1 Thes. v. 6, 7. Now also he re- membered 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 thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful ; and it stood just by the highway side. So I saw in my dream that he made haste and went forM^ard, 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 of 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 *" The lions, the wicked people of the world." [24] Bunyan dedicated his Grace Abounding to his children in the faith. He, being then in prison, calls it " the lion's den," where he was " a sticking between the teeth of the lions." When Faithful passed they were asleep. It was a short cessation from persecution. In the Second Part, Greatheart slew Giant Bloody-raan, who backed the lions; probably referring to the death of some monster like Jefferies. And in the ex- perience of Mr. Fearing, it is clear that the Hill Difficulty and the lions were in- tended to represent temporal troubles. " When we came at the Hill Difficulty he made no stick at tliat, nor did he much fear the lions : for his trouble was no*; about such things as these; hisffar was about his acceptance at last." 78 TUE pilquim's peoohess. and, falling down upon his knees, he asked Grod's forgivenesa for that his foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart ! Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little re- freshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his com- Christian be- ^^^^ ^^ many times in his journey. He went wails his foolish thus, till lie Came again within sight of the sleeping. ° ° arbour where he sat and slept ; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. E-ev. ii. 5. 1 The^. v. 7, 8. Thus, therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, " O wretched man that I am ! " that I should sleep in the day-time ! 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 spii'its of pilgrims !" How many steps have I took in vain ! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin ; they were sent back again by the way of the Eed 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. Oh, that I had not slept ! Now, by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept ; but at last, as Christian would have it, looking sorrowfully down under his roll where he the settle, there he espied his roll ; the which '°* ' ■ he, with trembling and haste, catched up, and " " The backslider is attended with fears, such as he felt not before, built on the vileness of his backsliding ; more dreadful scriptures look him in the face, with their dreadful physiognomy. His new sins all turn talking devils, threatening devils, roaring devils. He can tell strange stories, and yet such as are very true. Ko man can tell what is to be seen and felt in the whale's belly but Jonah." [53] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 77 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 jpurney. But oh, how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again began to condole with himself. O thou sinful sleep : how, for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my 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, 1 Thes. v. G, 7. Now also he re- membered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they Avere frighted with the sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again. These beasts range in the night for their prey ; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift them ? How should I escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful ; and it stood just by the highway side. 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 of 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 *" The lions, the wicked people of the world." [24] Eunyan dedicated his Grace Abounding to his children in the faith. He, being then in prison, calls it "the lion's den," where he was "a sticking between the teeth of the lions." When Faithful passed they were asleep. It was a short cessation from persecution. In the Second Part, Greatheart slew Giant Bloody-man, who backed tlie lions; probably referring to the death of some monster like JefFeries. And in the ex- perience of Mr. Fearing, it is clear that the Hill Difficulty and the lions were in- tended to represent temporal troubles. " When we came at the Hill Difficulty he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions : for his trouble was no* about such things as these; hisffar was about his acceptance at last." 78 THE PTLGEIM's iPEOQEESS. be 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 siii. 34 — 37. Pear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for dis- covery of those that had none. Keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee. " Difficulty is behind, Fear is before, Though he 's got on the hill, the lions roar; A Christian man is never long at ease. When one fright 's gone, another doth him seize." 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 tlie hill, and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was, and whither he was going. Che. 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. PoE. What is your name ? Che. 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. ix. 27, PoE. But how doth it happen that you come so late ? The sun is set, Che. I had been here sooner, but that, " wretched man that I am ! " I slept in the arbour that stands on the hUl-side ; nay, I had, notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that, in my sleep, I lost my evidence, and came without it to the brow of the hill ; and then feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced with sorrow of heart, to go back to the place where I slept my sle?p, where I found it, and now I am come. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 79 PoE. "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 at the door of the house, a grave and beautiful damsel, named Dis- cretion, and asked why she was called. The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being 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 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 hOl, 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 familv. So she ran to the door, and called out Pnidence, 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 con- sented together, that until supper was ready, some of them "^ Christian, after feeling the bui-den of sin, entering by Christ the gate, taught by the Holy Spirit in the house of the Interpreter; after losing his burden by faith in his crucified Saviour, his sins pardoned, clothed with his Lord's righteous- ness, marked by a godly profession, he becomes fit for church-fellowship ; is invited by Bishop Gilford, the porter ; and, with the consent of the inmates, he enters the house called Beautiful. Mark, reader, not as essential to salvation ; all that was essential had taken place before. Faithful did not enter. Here is no compulsion ; that would have converted it into the house of persecution. It is upon tlie Hill Difficulty, requiring personal efforts to scramble up ; and courage to bear the taunts of the world and the growling of the lions. Here he has new lessons to learn of Discretion, Piety, Prudence, and Charity, to bear with hi« fellow-members, and here he is armed for his journey. 80 THE pilgrim's progeess, sbould have some particular discourse -witli Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, and Pi'udence, and Charity to discourse with him ; and thus they began : PiETT. Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving Piety discourses ^° J^^' *o receive you in our house this night, I'iia. 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 ? Che. I was driven out of my native country, by a dreadful „ „, . .. sound that Avas in mine ears : to wit, that un- How Christian . . was driven out of avoidable destruction did attend me, if I abode his own country. . , i i t m that place where 1 was. PiETT. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way ? Che. 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 into tiie way to trembling and weeping, whose name is Evan- '°°" gelist, and he directed me to the Avicket-gate, which else I should never have found, and so set me into the way that hath led me directly to this house. PiETT. But did you not come by the house of the Inter- preter ? Che. Tes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will stick by me as long as I live; especially three thinfrs : to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan. A rehearsal of . . what he saw in the maintains his work of grace in the heart ; how ^^^' the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of Grod'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 ? Che. Tes, 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 lieard it. THE PIIiGEIM's PEOGEESS. 81 Piety. Was that all that you saw at the house of the Interpreter ? Che. Xo ; 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 further to go. PiETT. And what saw you else in the way ? Che. Saw ! why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the tree ; and the very sight of him made my burden faU off my back (for I groaned under a very heavy burden), but then it fell do%vn from off me. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before ; yea, and while I stood lookiag 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 fore- head, and gave me this scaled roll. (And with that he plucked it out of his bosom.) Piety. But you saw more than this, did you not ? Che. The things that I have told you were the best ; yet some other matters I saw, as, namely : I saw three men. Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their heels ; but do you think I could awake them? I also saw Pormality 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 aU I might have gone back again ; but now, I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me. Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and desired his answer to them. 82 THIS pilgrim's peoghess. Prudence dis- Pkud. Do you iiot think sometimes of the courses bim. countiy from ^^■hence you came ? Chr. Yes, but -with much shame and detestation : "truly, if I had been mindful of that country from whence I came out, I might have had opportimity to have returned ; thoughts of his but now I desire a better country, that is, an. native country. J^g^^gj^jy,, Heb. xi. 15, 16. Prtjd. 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, vrith which all Chi'istian dis- ,, ,„ - tasted with carnal my countrymen, as well as myselt, were de- cogi a ons. lighted ; 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 Christian's choice, be doiug of that which is bcst, that which is worst is with me. Horn. vii. Pritd. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity ? Chr. Yes, but that is seldom ; but they are Christianas jolden ^^ ^^ golden houTS in which such things happen to me. Prud. 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, gets power against that will do it ; also when I look into the roll s corrup ons. ^-j^^^ j ^^^^ -^-^ ^ bosom, that will do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it. Peud. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion? Che. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross ; and there I hope to be rid of all would be at Mount those things that to this day are in me an annoyance to me ; there, they say, there is no death ; and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. Is. XXV. 8 ; Hev. xxi. 4. Por, to tell you truth, I love him, because I was by him eased of my burden ; and I am THE PILGEIM S PE0GEE8S. 83 weary of my in'^ard sickness. I would fain be wliere I sliall die no more, and ^Yith the company that shall continually cry, "Holy, Holy, Holy!" Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a ~ .^ ,. •' , ' •' Cnanty msooursea family ? Are you a married man ? bim. Chu. I have a vnfe and four small children.<^ Chab. And why did you not bring them along -with you ? Che. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how willingly would I have done it ! but they to his wife and were all of them utterly averse to my going on ^^ pilgrimage. Chae. But you should have talked to them, and have endea- voured to have shown them the danger of being behind. Che. So I did ; and told them also what Grod had shown to me of the destruction of our city ; " but I seemed to them as one that mocked," and they believed me not. Gren. xix. 14. Chae. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them ? Che. Tes, and that with much affection : for you must think that my wife and poor children were very dear unto me. Chae. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction ? for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you. Che. Tes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in my countenance, in my tears, and christian's fears also in my trembling under the apprehension of bl^read ^jfhir'^'^'^ the judgment that did hang over our heads ; couateaance. but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me. Chae. But what could they say for themselves, why they came not ? Che. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and my children were given to the foolish delights of ^he cause why youth : so what by one thing, and what by ^en^'di/mt"'''^' another, they left me to wander m this manner with Mm. alone. Chae. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all that ^ This was the fact as it regards Banyan when he was writing the " Pilgrim." He hai a wife, two sons, and two daughters. 84 THE pilgeim's peogeess. yoii by words used by way of persuasion to bring tbem fiway 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 labour to fasten upon others for their Christian's good good. Tet this I Can say, I was very wary of foTidf w°i?e and giving them occasion, by any unseemly action, children. ^q make them averse to going on pilgrimage.* Tea, 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 simiiug against Grod, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour. Chae. Indeed Cain hated his brother, "because his own ^ . ^. , works were evil, and his brother's righteous," Christian clear ... . . of their blood if 1 John ill. 12; and if thy wife and children have been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be implacable to good, and " thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood." Ezek. iii. 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 What Christian " '^i*^ ^^^ things, and with wine that was well had to his supper, refined:" and all their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill ; as, namely, about what he had Their talk at sup- ^one, and whercfore he did what he did, and per-time. -yyiiy }xq iiad 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 powerof death," but '"Those that religiously name the name of Christ, and do not depart from iniquity, cause the perishing of many, A professor that hath not forsaken his iniquity is like one that comes out of a pesthouse to his home, ivith all his plague-sores running. He hath the breatli of a dragon, and poisons the air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friends, and himself. Oh, the millstone that God -will shortly hang about your necks, when you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God's wrath ! " [34] /How beautiful is that church where Watchful is the porter, and Discretion admits the members ; where Prudence takes the oversight; Piety c; nducts the worship ; and Cbarity endears the members one to another. THE pilqeim's peoguess. 85 not Tvithout great danger to himself, whicli made me iove him the more. Heb. ii. 14, 15. Por, as they said, aud as I believe (said Christian), he did it with the loss of much blood ; but ^hat which put glory of grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his country. And besides, there were some of them of the house- hold 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, tliat 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 cimst makes many pilgrims princes, though by nature they pi"i"ces of beggars. were beggars born, and their original had been the dunghill. 1 Sam. ii. 8 ; Ps. cxiii. 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, v>hose window opened christian's bed- toward the sun-rising: the name of the chamber chamber. was Peace ; 3 where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang — * "Where am I now? Ts this the love and care Of Jesus for the men that pilgi-iras are ? Thus to provide ! that I should be forgiven ! And dwell already the nest 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 yWhen Christiana and her party arrived at this house Beautiful, she requested that they might repose in the same chamber called Peace, which was granted. The auilio;, in his marginal note, explains the natui'e of this resting-place by yie voids, " Christ's bosom is for all pilgrims." " Go, vain Desire ! The dusky lights have gone ; go thou thy way ! Aud pining Discontent, like them expire ! Be called my chamber Peace, when ends the day. And let me, with the dawn, like Filgrlm, sing and pray." 86 THE pilgrim's pkogeess. _ , ^. , , . had shown him the rarities of that place. And Cnristianhad m- ... i i i to the study, 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 first tht pedigree of the Lord of tae hill, that he was the son of the Ancient of Days, and came by that eternal generation. Here also was more fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his service ; and how he had placed them in such habitations, that could neither by length of days, nor decays of nature, bo dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done : as, how they bad " 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 fl.ight the armies of the aliens." Heb. xi. 33, 34. They then read again, in another part of the records of the house, where it was showed how willing their Lord was to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great afii-onts 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 modem ; together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims. The next day they took him and had him into the armoury, Christian had into ^l^ere they showed him aU manner of furniture, the armoury. 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 enougb of this to harness out as many men for the service of their Lord as there be stars in the heaven for multitude.-?' • " Should you see a man that did not go from door to door, but he must be clad in a coat of mail, and have a helmet of brass upon his head, and for bis life guard not so few as a thousand men to wait on him, would you not say, Surely this man has store of enemies at hand? What guard doth God's people need, who are, night and day, roared on by the unmerciful fallen angels? Why, they lie in wait for poor Israel in every hole, and he is for ever in danger of being de- stroyed." [50] i Christ himself is th» Christian's armoury. Are his loins THE PILGEIM'S PUOGEESS. 8'2 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 to see aaci'eut lamps too, with which Grideon put to flight the ^^' armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox's goad where- with Shamgar slew six hundred men. They showed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats. They showed him, moreover, the sling and stone with which David slew 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 iu 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 tliey, we will, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains, which, they said, would ,. i Christian showed yet lurther add to his comiort, because they the Delectable 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. xxxiii. 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, said they, thou mayest see to the gate of the girt about -with truth ? Clu-ist is the truth. Has he on the hreastplate of right- eousness ? Christ is our righteousness. Are his feet shod with the gospel of peace ? Christ is our peace. Does he talce the shield of faith, and helmet of sal- vation? Cliristis that shield, and all our salvation. Does he take the sTvord of the Spirit, which is the Word of God ? Christ is the Word of God. Thus Christ is all in all. * " Tlie church in the wilderness, even her porch, is fuU of pillars — apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There are hung up also the shields that the old warriors used, and on the walls are painteti the brave achievements they have done. There, also, are such encouragements that one would think that none who came thither would ever attempt to go back. Yet some forsake the place." f55] 88 THE PILaHIM's rROGEESS. Celestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make appear. Christian sets Now he bethought lumself of seiLing forward, forward. ^^^^ ^|jgy ^^^^ willing he should. But first, said they, let us go again into tlie armoury. So they did ; and Christian sent away when they Came there, they harnessed liim from '^^'^ ' head to foot with what Avas of proof, lest, per- haps, he should meet with assaults in the way. He being, therefore, thus accoutred, walketh out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by. Then the porter answered, Yes. Che. Pray, did you know him ? said he. PoR. I asked him his name, and he told me it was Faithful. Cnn. Oh, said Christian, I know him ; he is my townsman, my near neighbour; he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you think he may be before ? PoR. He is got by this time below the hill. Che. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy blessings much in- and the Porter crcase, for the lujidness that thou hast showed greet at parting. ^^ ^^^^ Then he began to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterating their former dis- courses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Chris- tian, 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 The Valley of ^ ^^^^^ matter for a man to go down into the . Humiliation. Yalley of Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee doA^Ti the hill. So he began to go doAvn, but very warily ; yet he caught a slip or two.' • We are not told what these slips were; but when Christian narrates the battle to Hopeful, he lets us into the secret: — "These three viEaLns," Faintheart, Mis- trust, and Guilt, " set upon me, and I beginning to resist, they gave but a cnll, and in came their master. I would, as the saving is, have given my life for a penny, but that, as God would have it, I was clothed witli amiour of proof." In the Second Part, Great-heart attributed tlie sore combat with Apollyon to " the fruit of those Slips that he got in going down the hill," to Forgetful Green. Christian's heavenly enjoyni ;nt was followed by humbling adventures in the valley. " A broken heart. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 89 Then I saw in my dream that these good companions, when Christian was gone to the hottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way. But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it; for he had gone but a little way, before he 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 armour for his back ; and therefore thought that to turn armour for Ms the back to him might give him the greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his darts. Therefore he resolved to venture and stand his ground; christian's re- fer, thought he, had I no more in mine eye than ^p^roach of^ApoU the saving of my life, it would be the best way ^y^^- to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold ; he was clothed with scales, like a fish (and they are his pride), he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion." When he was come up to Chris- tian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him. Apol. Whence come you ? and whither are you bound ? Che. I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all evil, and am going to the City of Zion. Apol. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects, for all that country is mine, and I am the prince ^. •' ^ ' ■•■ Discourse bc- and god of it. How is it, then, that thou hast twixt ciiristian 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. O God, thou wilt not despise." Has he given it to thee, my reader? then he has given thee a cabinet to hold his grace in. True, it is painful now, it is sorrowful, it bleeds, it sighs, it sobs. " Well, verywell ; all this is because he has a mind that thou mayest rejoice in heaven." [43] •" The description of Apollyon is terrible. This dreadful imagery is collected from various parts of Scripture, where the attributes of the most terrible animals are given him; of leviathan, the dragon, the lion, and the bear; to denote hia strength, lis pride, his rage, his courage, and his cruelty. 1* 90 THE pilgkim's peogeess. Che. I -was born, indeed, in your dominions, but your service was hard, anl yoar wages such as a man could not live on, "for the wages of sin is death," Eom. vi. 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 thnt will thus lightly lose his sub- jects, neither will I as yet lose thee ; but since Apoiiyonsflatteiy. ^j^^^ complaiuest of thy service and wages, be content to go back : what our country will afford, I do here promise to give thee. Che. 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 i " but it is ordi- ApoUyoB under- ° ' values Christ's nary for those that have professed themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well. Che. 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 to me, and yet I tends to be merci- am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet turn again and go back. Che. "What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and, be- sides, I count the Prince under whose banner now I 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; and, therefore, leave off to persuade me further; I am his servant, and I will follow him. Apol. Consider, again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to meet with in the way that thou the ^ie^v°o'Jis^ ends goest. Thou kuowcst that, for the most part, dissuade^ chrStian his scrvauts come to au ill end, because they w^'way.'^^^'^'"^ "^ ^^^ transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths; and, besides, thou countest his service better than mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where he is to THE PILGEIM'S PR0GEE3S. 91 deliver any that served him out of tlieir hands ; but as for me, how many times, as all the world very well knows, have I de- livered, either by power, or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them ; and so I will deliver thee. Che. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on pur- pose 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 ? Che. "Wherein, O ApoUyon! have I been unfaithful to him? Apoi. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choked in the Gridf of Despond; thou . „ , , '- ' Apollyon pleads didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy bur- Christian's iufirm- den, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off; thou didst sinfully sleep and lose thy choice thing ; thou wast, also, almost persuaded to go back, at the sight of the lions ; and when thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou art inwardly desirous of vain-glory in all that thou sayest or doest. Che. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out ; but the Prince whom I serve and honour is merciful, and ready to forgive ; but, besides, these infirmities 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." " This dialogue is thus illustrated hy Eunyan [38 and 52] : " Satan is loath to part with a great sinner. \ATiat, my true servant, quoth he, having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now ? Thou horrible ^n•etch, dost not know that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of gi-ace, and dost thou think to find mercy now ? Art not thou a murderer, a tliief, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now ? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, to see so vile a one knock at heaven's gates for mercy, and wilt thou he so abominably bold? Thus Satan dealt with me when I came to Jesus Christ. And what did 3'ou reply? saiih the tempted. Why, I gi-anted the whole charge to be true, says the ether. And what, did you despair, or how ? No, saith he, I said I am Magdalene, 92 THE pilgbim's peogress. Apol. Then Apollj^on broke out into a grievous rage, say. ing, I am an enemy to tliis Prince ; I hate his Apollvon la a i ■ i i it rage ftiUs upon persou, 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 further ; here will I spill thy soul. And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast;" but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him : and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail ; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in wounded m^ his Jiig bead, his hand, and foot. This made Cliris- faith, and couVer- tian give a little back ; Apollyon, therefore, fol- lowed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfidly as he could. This sore com- bat 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 Apollyon cast- closc to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave ground'Ihe Christ him a dreadful faU ; and with that Christian's tian. sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am tlie thief, I am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ's murderers — yea, worse than any of these ; and yet God was so far ofiF from reject- ing of me, that there was music and dancing in his house for joy that I was come home unto him." When Satan charged Luther with a long list of crimes, ho replied, This is all true ; but write another line at the bottom, " The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." • The devil is that great and dogg3id leviathan, that " spreadeth sharp-pointed things upon the mire." Job xl. 30. ' For be the spreading nature of our cor- ruptions never so broad, he will find shai-p-pointed things enough to stick in the mire of them for our affliction ; they are caHed fiery darts, and he has abundance of them with which he can and will sorely prick and wound our spirits." [54] " Now fighting with angels, with infemals, all he can do now is to cry, groan, sweat, fear, fight, and gasp for life." [52] THE pilgeim's progeess. 93 I am sure of thee now. And with that he had almost pressed him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life -.p but as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man. Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, "Eejoice not against me, mine enemy: when I fall I shall arise," Micah vii. 8 ; and with that gave ^ . ,. , . Ciiristi'xii s vic* him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, tory over Apoi- as one that had received his mortal wound. ^""^ Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, " JSTay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." Eom. viii. 37. And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian for a season saw him no more. James iv. 7. In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling and hideous roaring 1 . p 1 J? 1 J. 1 -^ brief relation Apollyon made all the time ot the light — he of the combat by 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 dreadfulest sight that ever I saw.2 A more unequal matcli can hardly be, — Chrislian must fight an Angel ; but you see, The valiant man by handling Sword and Shield, Doth make him, tho' a Dragon, quit the field. P " Is it not a wonder to see a poor creature, who in himself is weaker than the moth, to stand against and overcome all devils, the world and all his corrup- tions ? or, if he fall, is it not a wonder to see him, when devils and guilt arc upon him, to rise again, walk with God, and persevere in faith and holiness." [21] » The literal history of this conflict may be found in Grace Ahounuing, Nos. 131 — 173, when he recovered his sword, and put his enemy to flight. He describes his agonies in the combat as if he was being racked on the wheel, and states that it lasted for about a year. Floods of blasphemies were poured in upon him, but he was saved from utter despair, because they were loathsome to him. Many of these hellish darts were tipped by ApoUyon's malignant ingenuity, with sentences from Scripture ; so that Bunyan thought the Bible was against him. One pene- trated his soul with the awful words " no place for repentance ; " and another with, " hath never forgiveness." The recovery of his sword was l)y a heavenly sugges- tion that he did not " refuse him that speaketh : " new vigour was communicated- 94 THE pilgeim's moaEEss. So when the battle was over, Christian said, " I will here ■ , . ,. give thanks to him that delivered me out of Cbristiivn gives c> ^ v^.*i/ v^# God thanks lor the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me . against Apollyon." And so he did, saying — Great Beelzebul), the captain of this fiend, Design'd my ruin ; tlierefore to this end He sent him hamess'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, Christian goes and to drink of the bottle that was given him a wuh 'his^°6^ord little before ; so, being refreshed, he addressed drawn m his hand, iiimgelf to his journey, with his sword dra\vn in his hand ; for he said, I know not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other aifront from Apollyon quite through this valley. Now, at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley The valley of the ^f the Shadow of Death, and Christian must Shadow of Death, needs go through it, because the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now, this valley is a very solitaiy place. The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it : "A wilderness, a land of deserts and of pits, a land of drought, and of the shadow of death, a land that no man" (but a Christian) "passed through, and where no man dwelt." Jer. ii. 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 children of ^^^ borders of the Shadow of Death, there met the spies go back, j^im two men, children of them that brought up an evil report of the good land, Num. xiii., making haste to go back ; to whom Christian spake as follows : — Che. "Whither are you going ? THE PILGEIM's PEOGIIESS. 95 Men. They said, Back ! back ! and we would have you to do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. Che. AVhy, what's the matter ? said Christian. Mek. 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. Che. But what have you met with ? said Christian. Mek. 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. Ps. xliv. 19 ; cvii. 10. Che. But what have you seen ? said Christian. Mek. 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 hangs 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 iii. 5 ; x. 26. Che. Then, said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven. Jer. ii. 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. Ps. Ixix. 14, IbS Again, behold, on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, into which, if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom for his foot to stand on. Into that quag king David once did fall, and had nc doubt therein been smothered, had not He that is able plucked him out. The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on tlie one hand, he was ready to ' Dr. Dodil considers that by the deep ditch is intended "presumptuous hopes," and the no less dangerous quag to be " despairing fears." 96 THE PILGKIM S PROGRESS. tip over into tlie mire on tlie other ; also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready i to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh bitterly ; for, besides the dangers mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not where or upon what he should set it next. ■! Poor man ! where art thou now ? thy day is night. Good man, be not cast down, thou yet art right, Thy way to Heaven lies by the gates of Hell; Cheer ujo, hold out, with thee it shall go well. About the midst of this valley, I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard by the way-side. Now, thought Christian, what shall I do ? And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for Christian's sword, as did ApoUyon before,) that he was forced to put up his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer, Eph. vi. 18. So he cried in my hearing, " O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul ! " Ps. cxvi. 4. Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards i 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 \ Christian put to ic ■ i iiii/^ I a stand, but for a had best to do. bomctimes he had hall 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 I'esolved to go on. Tefc the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer ; but when they were come even * The sight of an immortal soul in peril of its eternal interests, beset with enemies, engaged in a desperate conflict, with hell opening her mouth before, and fiends and temptations pressing after, is a sublime and awfal spectacle. Man cannot aid him : all his help is in God only. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 97 almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, " I will walk in the strength of the Lord God ! " so they gave back, and came no further. One thing I would not let slip ; I took 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 stept up softly to him, christian made and whisperingly suggested many grievous beUeve that^j^be blasphemies to him, which he verily thought mies, when it was r ' • J rni • i. Satan that sug- had proceeded from his own mind, iliis put gested them into ., i*jii_i J, his mind. Christian more to it than anything 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 blas- phemies came.' When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Ps. xxiii. 4." Then he was glad, and that for these reasons : Mrst, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in this valley as well as himself. Secondly/, Por 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 is.. 11. '"And as for the secrets of Satan, such as are suggestions to question the being of God, the truth of his Word, and devilish blasphemies none are more acquainted with these than the biggest sinners at Iheir conversion, wherefore thus also they are prepared to be helps in the church to relieve and' comfort others." " [38] " Satan and his angels trouble bis head with their stinking breath. How many strange, hideous, and amazing blasphemies have some, that are coming to Christ, had injected upon their spirits against him." [53] "He brought me up also out of a horrible pit ; a pit of noise of derils, and of my heart answering them with distrust and fear." " Satan beJaubeth us with his own foam, and then tempts us to believe that that bebaubing comes from our- •elves." [54] " Probably alluding to Martin Luther, in his Com. on Galat. [12, No. 129.] 98 THE pilgeim's peooeess. i Thirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to ha,ve ; compauy 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 i thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day broke ; i Christian glad ^^^^ ^^^^ Christian, He hath turned " the shadow \ at break of day. q£ ^^^^^i into the morning." Amos v. 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 j of the pit, but all afar off (for after break of day, they camel not nigh) ; yet they were discovered to him, according to that [ which is written, " He discovereth deep things out of darkness, j and bringeth out. to light the shadow of death." Job xii. 22. ; Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from' all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers, though he ' feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now,: because the light of the day made them 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 firstj part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet; ™ d rt ^^^^ second part which he was yet to go, was, if! of this valley very possible, far more dangerous: for from thei place where he now stood, even to the end of; the valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, j gins, and nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and| shelvings down there, that, had it now been dark, as it wasj 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 upon my head, and by his light I walk through dark-, ness." Job xxix. 3. In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley^ Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay ; • " The wicked spirits have made and laid for us snares, pits, holes, and what; Hot, if peradventure hy something we may he destroyed. Yea, and we should I most certainly he so, were it not for the rock that is higher than they." [54] Cliri.stian at Mie cave of Giant Piipe,— P. i)9. THE pll&eim's peo guess. 99 blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of uieu, 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 time ; by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, &c., lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went without much danger, whereat I 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 in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think, especially because he spake to him, though he could not go after him, saying, " Tou 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 t (I can say no less) That I should be preserved in that distress That I have met with here ! O blessed be That hand that from it hath deliver'd me ! 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. Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was cast txp on purpose that pilgrims might see before them. Up there, therefore, Christian went, and " "The quaint and pithy point of this passage stamps it as one of Banyan's most felicitous descriptions. His picture of the cave of Pagan and Pope, audits memorials ; his delineation of the survivor of this fearful pair, rank among those master-touches which have won such lasting honour for his genius." ' Christian having passed the gloomy whirlwind of temptation, now walks in the light of the Sun of Bighteousness, through the second part of the valley. Here he encounters new dangers. " The day of persecution is fall of snarts 100 THE PILGEIM's PEOGBESS. looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his journej. Then said Cb-istian aloud, " Ho ! ho ! Soho ! stay, and I will be your companion! "y 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 Christian over- ^'i^ Strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, takes Faithful. ^^^ ^[^ j^jg^ overrun him ; so the last veas first. Then did Christian vain- gloriously smile, because he had gotten the start of his brother ; " but not taking good heed to his feet, he 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, Christian's fall and had swcet discourse of all things that had a?id he go lovingly happened to them in their pilgrimage ; and together. .j-j^^^g Christian began : Che. My honoured and well-beloved brother. Faithful, I am glad that I have overtaken you; ana that God has so tempered our spirits, that we can walk as companions in this so pleasant a path. Faith. I had thought, dear friend, to have had your com- pany quite from our town ; but you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone. Che. How long did you stay in the City of Destruction, before you set out after me on your pilgrimage ? and perils. Here is the fear of man — the terrors of a prison — of loss of goods and life — all things look black — the fiery trial is come. Without prayer he is like to take a fall — a foul fall. He will not only break his own bones, but the hearts of those that fear God, and behold it." [52] " Antichrist is angry ; he speaks not a word but blood, blood is in it. He is assuredly drawing towards his downfall." [56] Had the darkness of mental anguish been added, he must have perished. The atrocities of Bonner strewed the way with blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of pilgrims. From the time of Bunyan's entering the prison, he walked in the light of God's countenance to his dying day." [12+] y We are now to be introduced to a new pilgrim. The communion depicted in this book forms one of its most delightful features ; and Faithful and Hopeful are both of them portraits that stand out in firm relief. ' " There is no man that flies for his life that thinks he speeds fast enough. He would willingly take a mile at a step." [26] " Ah, what a smile was that ! How much sin there was in it, instead of humble, spiritual gratitude and joy. See how surely, with spiritual pride, comes false security, and a fall. THE PILGEOl's PEOGEESS. 101 Paith. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk presently after you were gone out, that our ^^^.^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^ city would, in short time, with fire from heaven, the country from \ , . , ,1 1 whence they came. be burned down to the ground. Che. "What ! did your neighbours talk so ? Paith. Tes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth. Che. "What ! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger ? Paith. 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. Che. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable ? Eaith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at 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. Che. And what said the neighbours to him ? Paith. He hatli, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of people ; , 1 T 1 • 1 • 1 -n How Pliable was some do mock and despise him ; and scarce will accounted of, wheu , t . 1 Tr ■ J.- he got home. any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city. Che. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise the way that he forsook ? Faith. Oh, they say, hang him, he is a turn-coat ! he was not true to his profession. * I think Grod has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way. Jer. xxix. 18, 19. Che. 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. * '' Mr. Anything became a brisk man in the broil ; but both sides were aj^ainst him, because he was true to none. He had, for liis malapertness, one of bis legs broken, and he that did it, wished it had been his neck." [27] 102 THE PIiaEIM's PEOOEESS. Che. "Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man; but now I fear he will perish iu the overthrow of the city; Per it is happened to him according to the true proverb, " The The dog and the ^og is turned to his own vomit again ; and the ^°^- sow that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire." 2 Pet. ii. 22. Faith. These are my fears of him too ; but who can hinder that which will be ? Che. Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern our- selves. Tell me now, what you have met with in the way as you came ; for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder. Faith. I escaped the Slough that I perceived you fell into, Faithful assault- ^^^ S^^ ^P ^'^ ^^^ S^^^ without that danger ; ed by Wanton. Qjjjy J jjiet with oue whose name was Wanton, who had like to have done me a mischief. Che. 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. xxxix. 11 — 13. But what did she do to you ? Faith. Tou 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. Che. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience. Faith. You know what I mean ; all carnal and fleshly content. Che, Thank Grod you have escaped her : " The abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch." Ps. xxii. 14. Faith. Nay, I knownot whether I did wholly escape her or no. Che. 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." Ps, V. 5. So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks. Job xxxi. 1, Then she railed on me, and I went my way. ' ' If the experience of Christian is an exhibition of Butiyan's own feelings, the temptations of Madame Wanton ai-e very properly laid in the way of Faithful, THE PIXGRIM S PEO&EESS. 103 Che. 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 wliither bound. I told him that I am a pilgrim, ^^ j^ ^^^^^,t^^ going to the Celestial City. Then said the old by Adam the First. man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow ; wilt thou be content to dwell wnth me for the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First,'^ and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. Eph. iv. 22. I asked him then what was his work, and what the wages 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 ser- vants he had. So he told me, that his house was maintained with aU the dainties in the world ; and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any chil- dren. He said that he had but three daughters : the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life, and that I should marry them all if I woidd. 1 John ii. 16. Then I asked how long time he would have me live with him ? And he told me. As long as he lived himself. Che. 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." Che. And how then ? Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave.* So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then She would have had no chance with the man who " admired the wisdom of God iu making liim shy of women." [12t No. 315] ■* He was indicted under the name of " Mr. Lustings, because he devilishly and traitorously taught, by practice and filthy words, that it is lawful and profitable for man to give way to his carnal desires." " He is the son of one Beastly, was born in Flesh Street, of ona Evil-concupiscence's daughter." [27] * An a^vful slavery! "None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of Ufa ' Pro v. ii. 19, 104 THE pilgrim's PROaRESS. 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 flesli, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he bad pulled part of me after him- self. This made me cry, " Oh, wretched man ! " Eom. vii. 24. So I went on my way up the hill. Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind ; so he overtook me just about the place whei'e 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. Paith. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the' man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. He said, because of my secret inclining to Adam the First : and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward ; so I lay at his foot as dead as before. So, when I came to myself again, I cried him mercy ; but he said, I know not how to show mercy ; and with that knocked me down again/ He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear. Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear ? Paith. 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 con- cluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. The temper of Chr. That man that overtook you was Moscs. °^'^^' He spare th none, neither knoweth he how to show mercy to those that transgress his law. Paith. I know it very well ; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was 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 ? " As the law giveth no strength, nor life to keep it, so it accepteth none of them that are under it. Sin and Die is for ever its language." [46] THE PILGBIM S PEOGEESS. lOL Paith. Tes, 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. Che. 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 Discontenb, who would willingly have persuaded me to go back again with him ; paitMui assauit- his reason was, for that the valley was altogether ed by Discontent, without honour. He told me, moreover, that there to go was the way to disobey 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. Che. "Well, and how did you answer him ? Faith. I told him that although all these that he named might claim kindred of me, and that rightly, for ^.jitjj^fyi.g indeed they were my relations according to the swer to Discontent, flesh ; yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, as 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 mis- represented the thing ; " for before honour is humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall." Therefore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy our affections. Che. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but of all the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears ho is assaulted the wrong name. The others would be said nay, ^'''^ shame. after a little argumentation, and somewhat else ; but this bold- faced Shame would never have done.^ •ti s The delineation of thi.s character is a masterly grouping together of the argu- ents used by men of this world against religion. Faithful's account of him, and of his argun-ents, is a piece of vigorous satire, full of truth and life. lOG THE pilgrim's PllOOllESS. Chr. Why, what did he say to you ? Paith. AVhat ! 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 accustom 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, 1 Cor. i, 28, iii. 18 ; Phil. iii. 7, 8 ; nor any of them neither, John vii. 48, before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondess, to venture the loss of all, for nobody knows what. 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. Tea, 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 imder a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home ; that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said, also, that religion made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which he called by finer names ; and made hiin 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 ? Paith. Say ! I could not tell what to say at the first. Tea, 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 Grod." Luke xvi. 15. And I thought again, this Shame tells me what men are ; but it tells me nothing what God or the Word of God is. And I thought, moreover, that at the day of doom, we shall not be doomed to death or life according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, indeed is best, though all the men in the world are against it. Seeing, ther>, THE PlLGEIil S PKOQBESS. 107 that Grod prefers his religion ; seeing Grod prefers a tender con- science ; seeing they that make themselves fools for the king- dom of heaven are wisest ; and that the poor man that lovetk 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 ? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I expect the bless- ing? Mark viii, 38, But, indeed, this Shame was a bold villain; I could scarce shake him out of my company ; yea, he would be 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 it was but in vain to attempt further 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 tliat 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 sometime else, we by them may Be taken, overcome, and cast away. Oh, let the pilgrims, let the pilgiims, then 3}e vigilant, and quit themselves like men. Che. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand tins 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 him- self audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does. But let us still resist him ; for notvv'ithstanding 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. iii. 35. Paith. I thuik we must cry to Him for help against Shame who would have us to be valiant for the truth upon the earth. Chr. Tou say true ; but did you meet nobody else in that Falley ? Paith. Iso, not I ; fori had sunshine all \\\e rest of the way 108 THE pilgeim's PKOQRESS. through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Chk. It was well for you. I am sure it fared far otherwise with me ; I liad 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 broke, 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, Faith- ful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance beside them ; for in this Talkatirade- placo 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 Paithful addressed himself in this manner. Faith. Friend, whither away ? Are you going to the hea- venly country ? Talk. I am going to the same place. Faith. That is well ; then I hope we may have your good company. Talk. "With a very good will will I be your companion. Faithful and ^^ITH. Come on, then, and let us go together. Talkative enter and let US spend our time in discoursing: of thino-g discomse. j,i . n, i i '^ that are prontable. Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very accept- * Bunyan places the Valley of the Shadow of Death, not where we should ex- pect it, at the end of the pilgrimage, but about the middle of it. He was brought to death's door by disease ; and then, for preaching, was condemned to imprison- ment, to banishment if he did not conform, and, if he returned, the jud^e added "You must stretch by the neck for it." Christian endured, in the first portion of this dismal valley, great distress about his soul's safety; and, in the latter part, the dread of an ignominious execution. This he was able to bear, because he then enjoyed the approbation of God. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 109 able, with you or with any other ; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline to so good a work ; *? Talkative s dia- for, to speak the truth, there are but tew that like of bad dia. 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 things 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 sayings are full of conviction ; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of Grod ? What things so pleasant (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful) ? Por 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 that which we design. Talk. That is it that I said ; for to talk of such things is most profitable ; for by so doing, a man may get Taikative-s fine knowledge of many things ; as of the vanity of discourse. earthly things, and the benefit of things above. Thus, in general, but more particularly, by this, a man may learn the necessity of the new birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness, &c. Besides, by this a man may learn, by talk, 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. Further, by this a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the igno- rant. * Faith. A.11 this Is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you. Talk. Alas ! the want of this is the cause why so few under- " I conclude that a little grace, a little love, a little of the true fear of Gcd, is better than all gifts." [12] " A prating tongue will not unlock the gates ot heaven, nor blind the eyes of thy judge." [22] 110 THE pilgrim's PfiOGKESS. Btaud the need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their soul, in order to eternal lite ; but iguorantly live m the "works of tlie law, by which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven. Eaith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is tlie gift of Grod ; 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 ; a IV . ^Yi jg Qf 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 thinga earthly; things moral, or things evan- gelical ; 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 onr profit. Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and stepping to Christian (for he walked all this while by him- guiied by Taika- Self), 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 Christian makes ... .< ^ ■J. discovery of said, This man, with whom you are so taken, Tulkativc, telliug .,,' ., • i ,, , j ^ i • l Faithful who he Will Deguiie, With that tongue 01 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 does he dwell ? Chr. He is the son of one Say-well ; he dwelt in Prating Eow; and is known of all that are acquainted with him, by THE pilgrim's PBOGEESS. Ill the name of Talkative in Prating Eow ; and notwitlistanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. * Faith. "Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. Che. That is, to them who have not thorough acquaintance with him ; for he is best abroad ; near home, he is ugly enough. Tour saying that he is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of the painter, whose pictures show best at a distance, but, very near, more unpleasing. Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled. Chk. God forbid that I sliould jest (although 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 talketli now with you, so will he talk when be 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 de- ceived. ' Che. Deceived ! you may be sure of it ; remember the pro- verb, " They say and do not." Matt, xxiii. 3. But the " king- dom of God is not in word, but in power." T^^^ik^tiTe talks, 1 Cor. iv. 20. He talketh of prayer, of re- but does not.' pentance, of faith, and of the new birth ; but he knows but * " The Pharisee trusteth in himself that his state is good ; he hath his mouth full of fine things, whereby he strokes himself over the head, and calls himself one of God's white boys, that, like the Prodigal's brother, never transgressed." [35] ' " ' Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, andhave not charity, I am as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.' Just thus it is with him who has gifts, but wants gi-ace. Shall I be proud, because I am sounding brass? Is it so much to be a fiddle ? " [12+ No. 297-300] " Some professors are pretty busy and ripe, able to hold 3-ou in a large discourse of the glorious gospel ; but if you ask them concerning heart-work, they answer, I am turned from my sins in a good measure, and have learned (in tongue) to plead for the gospel. This does not prove them under the covenant of grace." [4] " There is a professor for God and for Baal. He can throw stones with both hands, can hold with the hare and run with the hounds, carry fire in one hand, and water in the other, a very anything. fit for any company. He will seek to enter heaven, and shall not be able." [22] 112 THE pilgrim's PEOOUESS. only to talk of them. I liave been in his family, and have ob- served him both at home and abroad ; and I know what I say Hishouse is empty ^^ ^'^^ ^^ ^^^ truth. His house is as empty of of religion. religion as the white of an egg is of savour. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, the brute in his kind serves Grod far better than he. He H s a staiu to ^^ ^^^ Very stain, reproach, and shame of reli- reiigion. gion, to all that know him ; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he dwells, through him. Eom. ii. 24, 25. Thus say the common people The proverb that ^^^^ know him, A saint abroad, and a devil at goes of him. home. His poor family fiuds 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 Men shun to deal Turk than with him ; for fairer dealing they ^' shall have at their hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and over, reach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to follow his steps; and if he findeth 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 commendations before others. Por my part, I am of opinion, that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if Grod prevent not, the ruin of many more. Paith. 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. Tor I cannot think that you speak these things of ill-will, but because it is even so as you say. Che. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him, as, at the first, you did ; yea, had he received this report at their hands only that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a slander — a lot that often 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 guuty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him ; they can neither call THE PILGEIAl's PHOGEESS. 113 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. Chb. 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 -jj^^ carcass of a dead carcass also. The soul of religion is the rcUgion. 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 i. 27 ; see ver. 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, xiii., xxv. 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 ; and you know men at harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that anything 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. xi. ; Deut. xiv. He is such a one that parteth the hoof and cheweth Faithful con- the cud ; not that parteth the hoof only, or that "^i^^ed of tiie bad- ^^ Hess ot X liirktH'ivc* 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 a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean. "* Chb. Tou have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel- "■ This sjjiiitual application of the law of Moses, is found iu the narrative oi Banyan's experience. [I2t No. 71] It is also solemnly argued in his Strait Gate— " Why some professors miss of heaven." [23} 114 KHE PILGBIM's PEOGEEiB. sense of those texts. And I will add another thing: Pau, calleth some men, yea, and those great talkers, too, " sounding brass and tinkling cymbals," that is, as he expounds them in. Talkative like to another place, "things without life, giving things that sound sound." 1 Cor. xiii. 1 — 3 : xiv. 7. Things with- without life. t c i • ■ i f> • i i out lite, that is, without tlie true laith 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 ? Che. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of yoiu' company too, except Grod shall touch his heart, and turn it. Paith. What would you have me to do ? Che. 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 ? Taxk. Thank you, well. I thought we should have bad 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 gi'aceof Grod 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 Taikative's false ^^ '^iUing to answer you. And take my answer discovery of a work in brief, thus : First, Where the ffrace of God of grace. . . , ' . IS m 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 ? " " " Some strive by an outcry, rather than hearty labour i^ainst lust, the world, and corruptions. This is beating of the air, and will come to nothing." [23 J ' THE pTXaBIn's PliOGEESS. 115 Faith. Oh, a great deal. A man may cry out agakst sin of policy, but he cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a ^^ ^ out against godly antipathy against it. I have heard many ^'^^^^'' ^^sn of cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. 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. Gen. xxxix. 15. 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. Ton lie at the catch, I perceive. Paith. 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, q^^^^ knowledge may be obtained in the mysteries of the gospel, no sign of grace, and yet no work of grace in the soul. 1 Cor. xiii. Tea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so con- sequently be no child of God. "W^hen Christ said, " Do you know all these things ? " and the disciples had answered, Tes ; he addeth, "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 is, there- Kaowiedfre and fore, knowledge and knowledge. 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 wiU of God from the heart : the first of these will serve the talker : but • 1 1 J 1 J 1 i /-ii ■ y • • i_ ^™^ kncwledga Without the other the true Christian is not con- attended witk cn- lent. "Give me understanding, and I shall keep '^ '^"'"s. thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart." Ps. cxix. 34k 116 THE PILQEIM'S PEOGHESS. Talk. Tou lie at the catcli 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. One good Bign of l^AITH. A WOrk of graCC in the soul dis- grace covereth itself, either to him that hath it, or to stand ers by. To him that hath it thus : It gives him conviction of sin, especially of the defilement of his nature and the sin of unbelief (for the sake of which he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at Grod's hand, by faith in Jesus Christ). John xvi. 8. Kom. vii, 24. John xvi. 9. Mark xvi. 10. This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life, at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; to which hungerings, &c., the promise is made. Ps. xxxviii. 18. Jer. xxxi. 19. Gal. ii. IG. Acts iv. 12. Matt. V, 6. Eev. xxi. G. Now, according to the strength or weakness of his faith iu his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But though I say it dis- covereth itself thus unto him, 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. To others, it is thus discovered : •Bunyan explains his meaning of "lying at the catch," by referring to those who abide in sin, and yet expect to be saved by grace : " Of this sort are they that build up Zion with blood, and Jerusalem with iniquity ; that judge for reward,and teacli for hire, and divine for money, and lean upon the Lord. Mich. iii. 10, 11. This Is doing things witha high hand against the Lord our God, and a taking him, as it were, al the catch t This is, as if he bad not fortified his proposals of grace by hia Holy Word, against all such kind of fools as these." [3S~ THE PILGEIM'S PEOGHESS. 117 1. Bv an experimental confession of hia faith in Christ.^ Eom. X. 10, Phil. i. 27. Matt. v. 19. ~ 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 AVord. John xiv. 15. Ps. 1. 23. Job xlii. 5, 6. Ezekiel xx. 43. 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 cpestiou. Talk. Nav, my part is not now to object, but to hoar ; let me, therefore, have your second question. Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part of this description of it ? and doth your life and con- Another pood sign versation testify the same? or standeth your t>'i?raco. reli'^ion in word or in tongue, and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you incline to answer uie 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 com- mcndeth." Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my conversation, and all my neighbours, tell me I lie, is great wickedness. Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but, recover- ing himself, thus he replied: You come now to experience, to conscience, and God ; and to appeal to him for justification of what is spoken. This kind of piS'"'%v"ru 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 sliould so do, yet I may refuse to make you my judge. But, I pray, will you tell me why you ask me such questions ? Paith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to 118 THE PILGKIM's PROOEESS. The reasons why *^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ *^^^ ^^^^^' ^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ of JOU, that Faithmi put to you are a man ■whose relie;ion lies in talk, and that nim tuat question. •' ... your conversation gives this your mouth-profes- Paithfuvs pi..in ^io^ t^e lie. They say, you are a spot among dealing with Talk- 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, &c., will stand together. The proverb is true of you which is said of a whore, to wit, that she is a shame to all women ; so are you a shame to all professors.? Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude vou Talkative flings '' '' •' away from Faith- are some pocvish or melancholy man, not fit to be discoursed with ; and so adieu. Chb. Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I told you how it would happen : your words and his lusts could not agree ; he had rather leave your company than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said ; let him go, the loss A good riddance. ^^ ^° mau'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, he would have been but a blot in our company : besides, the apostle says, " From such withdraw tliyself" Paith. But I am glad we had this little discouree 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. Tou 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 P "I observe that, as there are trees -n-holly noble, so there are also their sem- blance. The grape, and the wild grape; the rose, and the cankerrose; the apple, and the crab. Now, fruit from these wild trees, the prudent count of no value. There are also a generation of professors that bring forth nothing but wild olives; saints only before men, devils and vipers at home ; saints in word, but sinners in heart and life. Well, saith God, this profession is but a cloak. ' I will answer him by myself.' Ezek. xiv. 7. Thou art too hard for the church." [28] THE PILGUIM'S PEOGEESS. 119 only in word, and are debauched and vain in their conversa- tion, 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 thev 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 tip his plumes ! How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes To drive down all befoi-e him ! But so soon As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon That's past the fuU, into the wane he goes. And so will all, hut he that heabt-wokk knows. Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way easy which would otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them ; for now they went through a wilderness. Now, when they were got almost quite out of this wilder- ness, Eaithful 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 it was he that set Evangelist over- me the way to the gate. Now was Evangelist ^""^"^ ^^'"^ ^°^^- come up to them, and thus saluted them : EvA^s". Peace be with you, dearly beloved ; and peace be to your helpers. Chb. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist; the sight of thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy They are glad at ancient kindness and unwearied labouring for tiiesightofhim. my eternal good. Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful. Thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable it is to us poor pilgrims ! EvAX. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fiu-ed 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 diili- culty, they had arrived to that place. 120 THE pilgeim's peogress. Evan. Eight glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have His exhortation met with trials, hut that you have been victors; to them. ^^^ £^j, ^^^^ y^^ 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 sowed and they that reaped shall rejoice together; that is, if you hold out: "for in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not," John iv. 36 ; Gal. vi. 9. The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one ; " so run, that you may obtain it," 1 Cor. ix. 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, Eev, iii. 11.? Tou are not yet out of the gun-shot of the devil ; you have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin ; let the kingdom be always before you, and believe steadfastly con- cerning 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. Che. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation ; but told him, withal, that they would have him him fOT his exhort- spcak further to them for their help the rest of *''*'°"' the way, and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen unto them, and also how they might resist and overcome them. To which request Faithful also consented. So Evangelist began as foUoweth : — ? " Sliall we venture the loss of eternal life for communion witli base, drunken, covetous wretches ; and shall we not labour as hard, run as fast, nay, a hundred times more diligently, for such glorious and eternal friends as God to love, Christ to redeem, the Holy Spirit to comfort, and saints and angels in heaven for company? Shall it be said at the last day, that the wicked made more haste to hell than you to heaven? Oh, run with all might and main ! They that will have heaven must run for it, because the devil will follow them. And I assure them the devil is nimble ; he is light of foot, and can run apace." THE PILOEIM'S PEOGEESS. 121 Etan. My sons, you have heard, in the words of the truth of the gospel, that you must, through many tribulations, enter into the kingdom of what trouUes'^t hey heaven. And, again, that in every city bonds fa^4""ai""anS and afflictions abide in you ; and therefore you tr^stefdrl'stue'S' cannot expect that you should go long on your pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. Tou 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 toAvn 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 ue^hoseiotit there, although his death will be unnatural, and wui be there to ° 1 -n 1 suiier, will have his pain perhaps great, he will yet have the the better of Ws 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 your God in well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator. *" Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them, and the name of that town is A^anity ; and at the town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Tair : it is kept all the year long ; it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the town where it is kept is lighter than vanity ; and also because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the '■ Runyan illustrates tlie care of Christ for liis afflicted ones with striking simplicity. " I love to play the child with children. I have met with a child that had a sore finger, so that it was useless. Then have I said, Shall we cut off this finger, and buy my child a better, a brave golden finger? At this hs started, and felt indignation against me. Now, if a child has such tenderness for a useless member, how much more tender is the Son of God to his afflicted mem- bsrs?" [5'2] See also BxiAy&n's B.(i.mira.hle Advice to Sufferers. [82] H 122 THE pllgeim's peogeess. wise, " ail that cometh is vanity," Eceles. i. ; ii. 11, 17 ; xi, 8. Isa. xi. 17. This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing ; I will show you the original of it. Almost live thousand years agone, there were pilgrims The antiquity of Walking to the Celestial City, as these two this fair. bonest pcrsous 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 The merchandise l^st all the year long : therefore at this fair are of this fair. j^jj g^g]^ merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, king- doms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and w^hat not. And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen juggling, 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 colour. 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 (viz. countries and kingdoms), where the wares of this fair are soonest to be found. Here is the ^, , , ^ ,, . Britain Eow, the Erench Eow, the Italian Eow, The streets of tms ■" ' ' ' fair. the Spanish Eow, the German Eow, 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 • " At Sturhridge Fair, near Cambridge, the shops or booths were built in rows lilce streets, having each its name ; as Garlielc Row, Bookseller's Eow, Cook Row, &e. Here are all sorts of traders, who sell by wholesale and retail; as goldsmiths, toymen, braziers, turners, milliners, haberdashers, hattfirs, mercers, drapei-s, pewterers, china warehouses, and, in a word, most trades that can be found in London. Here are also taverns, coffee-houses, and eating-houses, in great plenty. The chief diversions are puppets, rope-dancing, and music bootlis. To this fair, people from Bedfordshu-e and the adjoining counties still resort." THE PILGEIil'S PEOGIIESS. 123 of Eome 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. v. 10. Christ went The Prince of princes himself, when here, went through this fair, 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. Matt. iv. 8. Luke iv. 5 — 7. Tea, because he was such a person of honour, Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure the Blessed One to cheapen and Christ bought no- f ^,. .,. 1,111 • J +„ thiDg in this fair. 9uy some oi his vanities ; but he had no mma to the merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very, great fan*. iS''ow these Pilgrims, as I said, must T^e Pilgrims enter 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 ^^^ j.^^ .^^ ^ it were in a hubbub about them ; and that for hubbub about them. several reasons : for — Pirst, 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 hubbub, tiie fair, made a great gazing upon them : some said they were fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are outlandish men. 1 Cor. ii. 7, 8. Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech; for few could second cause of understand what they said; they naturally the hubbub. spoke the language of Canaan, but they that kept tlie fair were the men of this world ; so that, from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other. Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the mer- 121 THE PILGEIM's PEOGEESS. Third cause of the chandisers was, that these pilgrims set very hubbub. 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," and look upwards, signifying that their trade and traffic was in heaven. Ps. cxix. 37 ; Phil. iii. 19, 20. One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men. Fourth cause of ^0 Say uuto them, "What will ye buy ? But the hubbub. they, looking gravely upon him, answered, " "We buy the truth." Prov. xxiii. 23. At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more ; They are mocked. , . , , • i ■ some mockmg, some taunting, some speakmg reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. The fair in a "^^ ^^^^ things Came to a hubbub and great stir hubbub. {j^ ^]jQ fjjij,^ insomuch that all order was con- founded. 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 these men into examina- tion, about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the ™ men were brouirht to examination; and they They are ex- c> ' J amined. that sat upou them, asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there, in such an unusual garb ? The men told them They tell who ,, . .? . - , . , they are, and that they wcre pugrims and strangers m the ■whence they came. ti ijijji • jji- world, and that they were going to their own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem, Heb. ix. 13 — 16 ; and that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they that were appointed to examine them did not believe them to be any other than They are not be- bedlaius and mad, or else such as came to put lieved. all things into a confusion in the fair. There- fore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with Thcv are ut n ^^^^' ^^^ ^^^^-^ P^^ them into the cage, that the cage. they might be made a spectacle to all the men ot the fair. THE pilgeim's peogkess. 125 Eeliold Vanity Fair ! the Pilgrims there Are cliain'd and stand beside : Even so it was our Lord pass'd here, And on Mount Calvary died. 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 T^eir behaviour in for railing, but contrariwise, blessing, and the cage. giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing, and less preju- diced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for their continual abuses done by them to the men ; they, therefore, in angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^.^^ them that they seemed confederates, and should fair do fail out •' . . ^ / rr\i among themselves be made partakers of theu* misfortunes.' ihe about these two other 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 they had abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, tlie 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 ^^°t^""^noe°^*^ men brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains and dow^?the fa^ up and down the fair, for an example and a torrorTo otherl " 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 ' In ICVO, the town porters of Bedford being commanded to assist in seizing the goods of the Nonconformists, ran away, saying, " They would be hanged, before they would assist in that work." The justices committed two of them to gaol. The shops were shut up, so that it seemed like a place visited with the pest, where usually is written upon the door, " Lord have mercy upon us ! " 12G THE PILaEIM'S PEOGEESS. much meekness and patience, tliat it won to Some of the men _ ... of the fair 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 greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men. Where- ries resoiye to kiu fore they threatened, that the cage nor irons '^™' should serve their turn, but that tliey 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, therefore, they called again to mind what they had heard from their faithful friend Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in theii* 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 other- wise disposed of." Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in order to their condemna- puMotoThetS ^^on. When the thne was come, they were to triaf"^ brought ])vought before their enemies and arraigned. The Judge's name was Lord Hate-good. Their indictment was one and the same in substance, though some- what varying in form, the contents whereof were this : — " That they Avere enemies to and disturbers of their trade j that they had made commotions and divisions Tbeir iudictment. . ,, , i i j j j jt • in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the . law of their prince," " " Thus have I (said Bnnyan) declared the manner of my being in prison, ■where I lie waiting the good will of God to do with me as he pleaseth ; knowing that not one Lair of my head can fall to the ground without the will of my Father. Let the rage and malice of men be ever so great, they can do no more than God permits them. ' All things work together for good to them thatlove God.' " [60} THE PIIGEIM'S PE0GEES3. 227 I'ow, Faitl\ful, play the man, speak for thy God: Fear not the wickecl's malice, nor their rod: Speak holdly, man, the truth is on thy side : Die for it, and to life in triumph ride. Then Paitliful began to answer, tliat he had only set himself against that which hath set itself against Him p^itj^fui-g ^n- that is higher than the highest. And, said he, swer for himseii 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 aught to say for their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pick- thank. 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 Envy begins. attest upon my oath before this honourable bench that he is — Judge. Hold ! Give him his oath. (So they sware him.) Then he said — EjSTTT. My Lord, this man, notwithstandiog his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country. He neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom; but doth 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. » This is one of Satan's lies, used by his emissaries to the present day. A Christian fears God, and honours the king ; he renders unto civil government that which belongs to it, but he dares not render unto Cwsar the things that belong to God ; and for thus righteously doing, he is called disloyal. 128 THE pilgrim's PROaHESS. Judge. Then did the Judge say to him, Hast thou aiy more to say ? Entt. My Loi'd, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the court. Tet, if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by. Then they called Superstition, and bid bim look upon the prisoner. They also asked, what be could say for their lord the king against him. Then they sware him ; so be began. Super. My Lord, I have no great acquaintance with this Superstition man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge foUows. of ijij2i ; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that, the other day, I had with him in this town ; for then, talking with him, I heard him say, that our religion was nought, and such by which a man could by no means please God. "Which sayings of his, my Lord, your Lordship very well knows, what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we do still 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 behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar. Pick. My Lord, and you gentlemen all, This fellow I have Pickthank'8 known of a long time, and have heard him speak testimony. thiugs that ought uot to be spoke ; for he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken con- Sins are aiiiords temptibly of his honourable friends, whose and great ones. xiamcs 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 uugodly 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 THE PILGRIit's PIiyGEESS. 129 his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentle- men 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 slaiu immediately upon the place ; yet, that aU men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou, A'ile 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 Faithful's de- rule, or laws, or customs, or people, were flat ^®°°^ °^ himself, against the "Word of Grod, are diametrically opposite to Chris- tianity. 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 Grod. 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, hio 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 The Judge's jury, you see this man about whom so great an speech to the jury, 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 into our law. There was au 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. i. There wag also an Act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, another 130 THE PILGEIII'S PEO&EESa. of his servants, that whosoever -would not fall down and wor- ship his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace. Dan. iii. There was also an Act made in the days of Darius, that whoso, for some time, called upon any god but him, should be cast into the lions' den. Dan. vi. Now the sub- stance 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 iiitolerable. 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. Por the second and third, you see he dis- puteth against our religion ; and for the treason he hath con- fessed, he deserveth to die the death. Then went the jury out, whose names were, Mr. Blind-man, Tho jury and ^^^- No-good, Mr. Malicc, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. their names. Livc-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr, Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Im- placable ; 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. Blind-man, the foreman, said, I see clearly Every one's pri- 'that this man is a heretic.*" Then said Mr. vate verdict. JSTo-good, Away with such a fellow from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for bim, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch 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 They conclude . . to bring him in recoucilod 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 " These -words were quoted (January 25, 1848) by the Attorney- General, in answer to the manner in which Dr. Hampden was then charged whh heresy by the Pusejites. ' All these witnesses, jurymen, and judge are still living. THE PILGEIM's PEOGEESS. 131 there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented.!' They, therefore, brought him out, to do with him accordiog to their law ; and, first, they scourged him, then rpjjg ^^^^ ^^^^, they buiFeted him, then they lanced his flesh °^ Faithful. 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, a chariot and who (so soon as his adversaries had despatched ukraway^Faith" 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." Brave Faithful, bravel}' done in word and deed; Judge, -nitnesses, andjuij have, instead Of overcoming thee, but shown their rage : When they are dead, thou 'It live from age to age. But as for Christiau, he had some respite, and was remanded back to prison. So he there remained for a christian is still space ; but He that 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, ^J^®.- ^°°^ P^^ , ' . , , o ■=• Christian made of Are crying out under their hellish plights : Faithful after his Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive ; death. For, though they killed thee, thou art yet alive. Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth alone, for there was one whose name was Hope- ful (being made so by the beholding of Chris- anotrer'^'^corS tian and Faithful in their words and behaviour, p^^°'^ P Nothing can be more masterly than the satire contained in this trial. The judge, the witnesses, and the jury, are portraits sketched to the life, and finished in graphic touches from living characters. » iSpcaking of the pillars in thut house at Lebanon, he says, " These men had the faces of lions, they have tri- nmphed in the flames." [55] ' " My Father will send the angels to fetch you ; their bosoms are chariots to pr.t you in. And yon, my Mansoul, shall ride upon the wings of the wind." 132 THE pilgrim's progbess. in their sufferings at the Fair), who joined himself unto him, and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he •vs-ould 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 of the ic'en of the men in the Fair, that would take their time and fair will follow. . - „ follow alter. So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the Fair, They overtake ^^^^J overtook oue that was going before them, By-ends. whose name was Bj^-ends : so they said to him, What countryman. Sir ? and how far go you this way ? He told them that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name. From Fair-speech ! said Christian. Is there any good that lives there ? Prov. xxvi. 25. Bx-ENDS. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. Che. Pray, Sir, what may I call you ? said Christian. Bt-ends. I am a stranger to you, and you to me : if you be By-ends loath go'^^S ^^^^ ^'^7, I ^hall be glad of your corn- to teu his uame. pany ; 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 is a wealthy place. By-ends. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have very many rich kindred there. Che. Pray, who are your kindred there ? if a man may be so bold. By ends. Almost the whole town ; and in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech (from whose ancestors that town first took its name), also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing ; and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's own brother by father's side ; and to tell you the truth, I am be- come a gentleman of good quality, yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman, lookicg one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. Che. Are you a married man ? By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, tho THE pil&eim's peogeess. 133 daughter of a virtuous woman ; she was my ^^ ^.^^ ^^^ Lady Feigning's daughter, therefore she came ^'^''^^ °^ ^i" of a very honourable family, and ie arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant- It is true we somewhat diifer in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but ^ 1, . n i. • Where Bv-cnds in two small points: hrst, we never strive differs from others against wind and tide ; secondly, we are always ^'^ ^^ ^^°^' most zealous when rehgion 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 com- pany 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 ? ■ Bt-ends. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nickname that is given me by some that cannot abide me : and I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me. Cue. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you by this name ? BY-E2fDS. ISTever, never ! The worst that ever I did to give them an occasion to give me this name was, that ^^^ By-ends I had always the luck to jump in my judgment g°t ^^ name, 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. * " O thou, that for hy-ends dost carry on the hypocrite's profession ; thy soul will fall into torments so soon as thou dost depart this world, to weep and gnash thy teeth for as many ages as there are sands on the sea-shore." [3] « What is this something that By-ends knew more than all the world ? How to unite heaven and hell — how to serve God and Mammon — how to he a Christian and a hypocrite at the same time. Alas ! how many similar characters now exist, with two tongues in one mouth, looking one way and rowing another. 134 THE PILGEIM's PE0GEES3. Che. I tliouglit;, indeeci, 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. H d sires to By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I keep company canuot help it : vou shall find me a fair company- with Christian. .„'■•'. ... ^ . ^ . / keeper, if you will still admit me your associate. Che. 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 slip- pers ; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. Bt-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; .eave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. Che. Not a step farther, unless you will do in what I pro- pound as we. Then said Bj^-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 com- pany, Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful forsook By-ends and ^^™' ^^*^ ^^P^ their distance before him ; but one Cbristiau part. ^f them looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, and behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low coiiffe ; and they also gave him a compliment. He has new The mcu's uames were Mr. Hoi d-the- world, Mr. companions. Money-love, and Mr. Save-all; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with; for in their minority they were schoolfellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a schoolmaster in Love-gain, which is a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gentlemen had attained much of the art of their master, «' " Fear not, therefore, in her for to abide, She keeps her ground, come weather, wind, or tide." [40] " If we will follow Christ, he tells us that we must take up our cross. The wind sets always on my face; and the foaming rage of the sea of this world beats upon the ship that my cause and my followers are in." [23] THi! pilguim's pbogbess. 135 fio tliat they could each of them have kept such a school them- Bclves. 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 Hopetui were yet within view.) By-ends. They are a couple of far country- ^^.^^g.^. ch^r.^- men, that, after their mode, are going on pil- ter of the Pilgrims. grimage. Monet-love. Alas ! Why did they not stay, that we might have had their good company ? for they, and we, and you. Sir, I hope, are all going on a pilgrimage. By-ends. We are so, indeed ; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opinions of others, that let a man be never so jTodly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company. Sate-ade. That is bad, but we read of some that are righteous overmuch ; and such men's rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but themselves. But, I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you differed ? By-ends. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, con- clude that it is duty to rush on their journey all weathers ; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for hazard- in"' 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 are 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 golden slippers, in the sunshine, and with applause. Me. Hold-the-woeld. Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends ; for, for my pjirt, 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 when the sun shines ; you see how the bee lieth still all winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine ; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that religion 136 THE pil&eim's peogbess. 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 aud Solo- mon 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. Me. Save-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more words about it." Me. Monet-lote. No, there needs no more words about this matter, indeed ; for he that believes neither Scripture nor reason (and you see Ave have both on our side), neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. Me. By-ends. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage ; and for oin? better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question : — Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, &c., should have an advantage lie before him, to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinarily zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with before ; may he not use these means to attain his end, aud yet be a right honest man? Me. Monet-love. I see the bottom of your question ; and, with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape you an answer. And first, to speak to your question as it con- cerns 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 oppor- tunity of gettsng of 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 hia principles ; for my part, I see no reason but a man may do this ' " Some men's hearts are narrow upwards, and wide downwards : narrow for God, but wide for the world. They gape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other. The heart of a wicked man is widest downward : but it is not so with the righteous. His desires, like the temple Ezekiel saw in the vision, are still widest upwards, and spread towards heaven. A full purse, with a lean, Koul, is a great curse. Many, while lean in their estates, had fat souls ; but the fattening of their estates has made their souls as lean as a ralce, as to good." [ 61] THE PILOEIil's PEOGEESS. 137 (provided he lias a call), aye, aud more a great deal besides, aud yet be an honest man. For why — 1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be con- tradicted), since it is set before hiin by Providence ; so then, he may get it, if he can, making no question for conscience sake. 2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a more zealous preacher, &c,, and so makes him a better man ; yea, makes him better improve his parts, which is according to the mind of God. 3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people, by dissenting, 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 so (3) 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 has improved in his parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, aud the opportunity put into his hand to do good. And now to the second part of the question, which concerns tlie 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 that 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 tliese, is a good and profitable design. This aaswer, thus made by this 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 I 138 THE pilgrim's pbogress. 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 bid them to answer it if they could. Chk. Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer ten thousand such questions. Por if it be unlawfid to foUow Christ for loaves (as it is in the sixth of John), 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 witches, 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 ways for them to come at them, but by becoming circumcised ; they say to their companions, if every male of us be circum- cised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be ours ? Their daughter and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their religion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them. Eead the whole story, G-en. xxxiv. 20 — 23. 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 xx. 46, 47. 3. Judas the devil was also of this religion ; he was re- ligious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was therein ; but he was lost, cast away, and the very son of perdition. 4. Simon the witch was of this religion too ; for he would have had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money there- THE pilgeim's peogeess. 133 with ; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was according. Acts viii. 19—22. 5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for the world ; for so surely as Judas resigned the world in becom- ing religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To answer the question, therefore, affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to accept of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenish, hypocritical, and devilish ; and your reward will be according to your works. Then they stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith to answer Christian. Hopeful also approved of the soundness of Chris- tian'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 shaU. be rebuked by the flames of a devour- ing fire ? Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went tni they came at a delicate plain called Ease, -jj^g ^^^ ^^^^. where they went with much content ; but that P"^?^!?f '?^^«, I' T . i but little in thi3 plain was but narrow, so they were quickly got life, over it. Now at the further side of that plain was a little Hill called Lucre, and iu that hill a silver mine, Lucre mu a dan- which some of them that had formerly gone that gerous hiu. way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the brink 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 ofi" the road, over against the silver mine, stood Demas (gentle- penj^g at tho man-like) to call to passengers to come and see; Hiii Lucre. Uo who said to Christian and his fellow. Ho ! aud Hopeful to turn aside hither, and I will show you a thing. °°™° ° "^' Che. "What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to Bee it ? 140 THE PILGBIM'S PROGRESS. 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. Hopofuitempted HoPE. Then Said Hopeful, Let us go see./ t°an °' holds ^ h'^ ^^^- ^0^ I' ^^'^^ Christian, I have heard of this b-'^c^- place before now ; and how many have there been, slain ; and besides that, treasure is a snare to tliose 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 ? Hos. xiv. 8. Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are care- less (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 Ey-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 Christian round- ^^^ ^^ enemy to the right ways of the Lord of eth up Demas. ^]^[^ "waj, and hast been already condemned for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges, 2 Tim. iv. 10 ; and why seekest thou to bring us into the like con- demnation? 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. Che. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? Is it not the same by the which I have called thee ? / " Eve expected some sweet and pleasant sight, that would tickle and delight her deluded fancy; but, behold sin, and the wrath of God, appear to the shaking of her heart; and thus, to this day, doth the devil delude the world. His temp- tations are gilded with sweet and fine pretences, that man shall be wiser, richer, more in favour, live merrier, fare better, or something ; and by such like things the fools are easily allured. But when their eyes are opened, instead of seein.tf what the devil falsely told them they see themselves involved in ^vTath." [45] THE PILGEIM's PBOGEESS. 141 Demas Yes, my name is Demas ; I am the son of Abraham. Che. I know you ; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your father ; and you have trod in their steps. 2 Kings V. 20 ; Matt. xxvi. 14, 15 ; xxvii. 1—5. It is but a devilish prank that thou usest ; thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward. Assure thyself, that when we come to the King, we will do him word of this thy behaviour. Thus they went their way. By this time By-ends and his companions were come again •udthin sight, and they, at the first beck, went By-ends goes over to Demas. Kow, whether they fell into over to Demas. 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 cer- tain ; but this I observed, that they never were 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 do Take up in this world, and no further go. Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the Pil- grims came to a place where stood an old monu- ,^^^^^ ^^^ ^ ment, hard by the highway side, at the sight of strange monu- 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 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, " Eemember 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. xix. 2G. Which sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion of this discourse. s "1 have wondered at Lot. His wife looked behind her, and died imme- diately • but he would not so much as look behind htm to tee her. His heart was 142 THE pilgkim's peogkess. Che. 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 inclining to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made ourselves 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. Che. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help for time to come. This woman escaped one judgment, for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom ; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see she is turned into a pillar of salt. Hope. True ; and she may be to us both caution and ex- ample ; 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. Num. xxvi. 9, 10. But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fel- lows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking behind ber 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- Che. 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 kind- set upon his journey ; and well it might. There were the mountains before him, and the fire and brimstone behind him. His life lay at stake ; and had he looked behind him he had lost it. Do thou so run, and ' remember Lot's wife.' " [57] * In former times, the purse was carried hanging to a girdle, and great dexterity was requisite to cut and carry it away without the knowledge of the owner. THE pilqeim's peogeess. 143 nesses that he had showed them, Gen. xiii. 13 ; for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden heretofore. Gen. xiii. 10. 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 Buch, even such as these are, that shall sia 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 par- takers 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," . . . " . ' A river. but John, "the river of the water of life." Psa. Ixv. 9 ; Eev. xxii. ; Ezek. xlvii. l^ow their way lay just upon the bank of tlie river ; here, therefore. Christian and his com- panion 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, that bore all manner of fruit ; and Trees by the the leaves of the trees were good for medicine ; "Jd leaves of tho with the fruit of these trees they were also much ^^''^'e^- delighted ; and the leaves they eat to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by travels. On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with lilies, and it was green •' , ' ° A meadow m all the year long. In this meadow they lay -which they Ue down, and slept ; for here they might lie down safely. 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. Psa. xxiii. 2 ; Isaiah xiv. 30. 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, beside their fragrant smeU, Yield dainties for them : and he that can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, Will Boon sell all, that he may buy this field. 144 THE pilgrim's peogeess. So when tliey were disposed to go on (for they were not, aa 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. jS"ow 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." Num. xxi. 4. "Where- fore, still as they went on, they wished for 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 By-path Meadow. ' . i, i -r> i -^^ -, m, that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian to his felloAv, If this meadow lieth along by „ , ^ ,. our wayside, let us go over into it. Then he One temptation. . does make way for went to the stilo to SCO, and bchold, 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 oyer. Hope. But how if this path should lead us out of the way ?J Che. That is not like, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the wayside ? So Hopeful, being tians°^ay lead persuadcd by his fellow, went after him over S'theway. """^ ^^^^ stilo. Wheu 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 See what it is too •' . r-i • sviddeniy to fall in that way led. Ho said. To the Celestial Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so 1^ By this you may see we are right. So they followed, and he » " Now bad I an evidence, as I thought, of my salvation from heaven, witli many golden seals thereon, all hanging in my sight. Now could I remember the manifestations of gi-ace with comfort; and longed that the last day were come that I might for ever be inflamed with the sight, and joy, and communion with him whose soul was made an offering for my sins. Before this I lay trembling at the mouth of hell ; now I had got so far therefrom that I could scarce discern it. O, thought I, that I were fourscore years old, that I might die quickly, and my soul bo gone to rest." [12+, 128] J "Beware of by-paths. Though the way to heaven be but one, there are many crooked lanes and by-paths shoot do\vn upon us, as I may say. Mind that, if thou do not find the besprinkling of Chi'sfs blood in the way, shun that way." [57] Tns pilgrim's progeess. lis went before them. But, behold, the night came on, and it grew very dark ; so that they that were behind lost the sight of him that went before. He, therefore, that went before (Yain-confidence by name), not seeing the way before him, fell into a deep ^ ^.^ ^^ ^^^.^.^ pit, Isa. ix. 16, which was on purpose there the vain-glorious made, by the Prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his fall.*° Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the matter, but there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then said Hope- Reasoning be- ful "Where are we now ? Then was his fellow tween cbristiaa ' . and Hopeiul. silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to rain, and thunder, and li(>hten in a very 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 un it at the very first, and therefore gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoken plainer, but that you are older than I.' CiiR. Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out of the way, and that I have christian's re- put thee into such imminent danger; pray, my Pfg^^^h's^her brother, forgive me ; I did not do it of an evil o"t of tiie way. intent. Hope. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee ; and believe, too, that this shall be for our good. Chb. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother ; but we must not stand thus : let us try to go back again. Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. Che. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any * " If thou be prying into God's secret decrees, or entertain questions about nice curiosities, thou niayest stumble and fall to thine eternal ruin. Take heed of that lofty spirit, that, devil-like, cannot be content with its own station." [57] ' When Bunyan pleaded so energetically for the communion of saints, irrespec- tive of water baptism, one of his arguments was, "The strongest may sometimes be out of the way." " Eeceive ye one another as Christ also received us." [15] 1-iG THE PILQEIM'S PfiOaEUSB. danger, I may be first tlaerein, 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, " Set thine heart toward the highway, even the way which thou wentest; turn again." Jer. xxsi. 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 adven- gerofd'iownmgas tured to go back, but it was so dark, and the eygo ac . 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 until the day-break ; but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was, gi-ounds of G'iant 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 iii^g^o^undsr'aud Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Doubtin^^Caatle*" 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 of their'ili^rison- dark duugeou, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these two men. Psa. Ixxxviii. 18. Here, •" The personification of Despair is one of tlie most instructive and beautiful portions of Bunyan's allegor}'. It is at once the very gloomiest and very brightest part of the " Pilgrim's Progress." It is so fuU of deep life and meaning that you THE PILGBIil'S PEOaEESS. 147 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. JSTow in this place Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unad- vised counsel that they were brought into this distress. Tlie Pilgrims now, to gi-atify the flfish, Will seek its ease ; but oh ! how they afresh Do thereby plimge themselves new gi-iefs into ! Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo. Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffi- dence. " 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 to do further to them. So she asked him what they were, Avhence they came, and whither they were bound ; and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in the morning he should beat them without any 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 never gave him a word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they oiaut D^palr were not able to help themselves, or to turn ^^^f ^ ^ p"^""^" them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn imder 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 about them further, and under- standing they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away 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 cannot exhaust it, and it is of such exquisite propriety and beauty that yon are never tired with examining it. " The wife of Despau- is Diffidence, or a distrust at God's faithfulness, and a want of confidence in his mercy. 148 THE piloeim's peogbess. out of that place, their only way would be leJlIh-'^'Yoin'seis forthwith to make an end of themselves, either Desjiair them t Belves. them to kill them- ^^j-j^ knife, halter, or poison, for why, said he, should you choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness ? " But they desired him to let them go, AVitli 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 sun- The Giant some- , ^ . times has fits. shiny Weather, fell into fits), and lost for a time the use of his hand ; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before, to consider what to do. Then did the prisoners con- sult between themselves, whether it was best to take his counsel or no ; and thus they began to discourse : — Che. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? The life that we now live is miserable. For my part I know not whether 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 vii. 15. Shall we be ruled by the Giant ?p HoPK. Indeed, our present condition is dreadful, and Hopeful comforts 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 " Bunyan, in liis delightful treatise of comfort against despair, introduces the following striking colloquy : — " Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou art one of the vilest in all the pack of professors ? Yes,, says the soul, I do. Says Satan Dost thou not know that thou hast horribly sinned ? Yes, says the soul, I do. Well, saith Satan, now will I come upon thee with my appeals. Art thou not a graceless wretch? Yes. Hast thou an heart to be sorry for this wickedness? No? not as I should. And albeit, saith Satan, thou prayest sometimes, yet is not thy heart possessed with a belief that God will notregard thee ? Yes, says the sinner. Why, then, despair, and go and hang th3'self, saith the devil. What shall I now do, saith the sinner? I answer, take up the words of the text against him, ' That ye may be able to comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.' " [54] '' " Satan will help forward the calamity of the man, who, in coming to Clirist is beat out of heart. He will not be wanting to trouble his head with the fumes of his foul breath. Now it is hard coming to God ; Satan has the art of making the most of every sin. But, soul, Christ can save unto the uttermost! come, man come. He can do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think." [53J THE PILGKIil's PEOGKESS. 149 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," 2 &c. And let us consider, again, that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as weU. as we ; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, but that God that 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 con- tinued 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 9 Bunyan had an acute sense of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and no saint suffered more severely from despair. One of his great objects is to arm poor pilgi-ims against desponding fears. " He (the devil) will be sure to present to thy conscience the most sad sentences of the Scripture; yea, and set them home with such cunning arguments, that, if it be possible, he will make thee despair and make away thyseK as did Judas." [1] " Sin, when seen in its colours, and when appearing in its monstrous shape and hue, frighteth all mortals out of their wits, away from God, and, if he stops them not, also out of the world. This is manifest by Cain, Judas, Saul, and others. They fly from before God one to one fruit of despair, and one to another." [35] ' " Despair will malce a man his own tormentor, and flounce and fling like a wild bull in a net Isa. li. 20. Despair ! it drives a man to the study of his own ruin, and brings him at last to be his own executioner." [38] In Bunyan'a Eavod by Grace are ten admirable antidotes against despair. 150 THE pilgrim's peogress. could do little but breathe. But, I say, be found them alive • at which be 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 Christian stiu renewed their discourse about the Giant's dejected. counsel ; and whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now Cln-istian again seemed to be for doing it," but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth : — Hope. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how Hopeful comforts Valiant thou hast been heretofore ? Apollyon ing^fofmer thtogs" could not crush thee, nor could all that thou to remembrance. ^^^^^ ^^^^.^ ^r See, or feel, in the VaUey of the Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through ! And art thou now nothing but fear ! Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art ; also, this Griant has 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 Pair, and wast neither afraid of the chain, nor cage, nor yet of bloody death. "Where- fore let us (at least to avoid the shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as weU as we can. Now, night being come again, and the Griant 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 • Alas, how chang'd ! Expressive of his mind, His eyes are sunk, arms folded, head reclin'd ; Those awful syllables, hell, death, and sin, Though whisper'd, plainly tell what works within. ' Bnnyan's experience is thus narrated [12f, No. 163] : "Despair swallowed me up, and that passage fell like a hot thunderbolt upon my conscience, ' He was rejected, for he found no place for repentance.'" » Dr. Donne, the Dean of St. Paul's, published a thesis, to prove that suicide might he justifiable. Hopeful answers all his arguments, and proves it too the foulest of murders. Bunyan thus notices the jailor's intent to commit suicide: " Even now, while the earthquake shook the prison, he had mm-der in his heai-t— murder, I say, and that of a high nature, even to have killed his own body and Boul at once." [46] THE PILasiM'S PEOGBESS. 151 Bturdy rogues, they choose rather to bear all hardship, than to made away 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 despatched, and make them be- lieve, ere a week comes to an end, thou also will 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 in my grounds, as ^^ g.turday, the YOU have done ; and when I thought fit, I tore Giant threatened J ' • • 1 T "n shortly he them in pieces, and so, within ten days, I will would puii them do you. Gro, 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. Dif&dence and her husband, the Giant, were got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners ; and withal the old Giant wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor his counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hope 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 in this passionate speech : What a fool, quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dun- ^ ^^^ .^ ^^,^^^ eeon, when I may as well walk at liberty ! I tian's bosom, called have a key m my bosom, called Promise,* that any lock mCoubt- ■vrill, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting " It is a curious picture which Bun3an has drawn of the intercourse between the Giant and his wife Diffidence. They form a very loving couple in their way; and the Giant takes no new step in the treatment of the pilgrims without con- sulting Mrs. Diffidence over night. " How would the awful lesson of the man in the iron cage, now recur to poor Christian's mind : " I cannot get out, now I cannot! I left off to watch, and am shut up in this iron cage, nor can aU the men in the world let me out." Christian's answer to the despairing pilgrim now soon broke upon his memory," The Son of the Blessed is very pitiful." • " This key was Heb. ii. U, 15. [12+,No. 116j 152 THE pilgeim: a jpeogbess. 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 damnable hard,2' yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed, but that gate, as it opened, made such a 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 con- trive with themselves what they should do at that stile, to pre- vent those that should 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 sen- A pillar erected ... by christiau and tencc — " Ovor this stile is the way to Doubting liis feUow. . . . . 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 follow : — Out of the way we went, and tlnn we found "What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground ; And let tliem 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. They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains, y Bunyan was plain spoken, and feared not to offend delicate ears wlien the truth required plain dealing. He says, " And, therefore, my brethren, seeing God, our Father, hath sent us, damnable traitors, a pardon from heaven, even all the promises of the gospel, and truth also, sealed to the certainty of it, with the iieart-blood of his dear Son, let us not be daunted." [4] " Many texts are looked over, or laid by, as those whose hey doth go too hard." [50 and 12 1] » See the IIoli/ War. " An army of terrible doubters," very graphically described. THE PILGEIM S PSOGEESS. 153 uhicb mountains belong to the Lord of that jj^g Delectable hill of which we have spoken before ; so they Mountains. 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 They are refreshed vineyards. 'Now there were on the tops of these ^^ ^^^ mountains, mountains shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The Pilgrims therefore went to them, and lean- ing upon their staves (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 ^aik with the be the sheep that feed upon them ? Shepherds. Mountains delectable they now ascend, Where Shepherds be, which to them do commend Alluring things, and things that cautious are, Pilgrims are steady kept by faith and fear. Shep. These mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are within sight of his city ; and the slieep also are his, and he laid down his life for them. John x. 11. Chb. Is this the way to the Celestial City ? Shep. Tou are just in your way. Che. How far is it thither ? " Shep. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed. Che. Is the way safe or dangerous ? Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; " but the transgressors shall fall therein." Hos. xiv. 9. Che. 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. xiii. 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 " " The weary pilgrim oft doth ask to know How far he 's come, how far he has to go ; His way is tedious, and his way opprest. All his desire is to be at rest." — Quarks' Eniblems, 15-1 THE PILGBIM's PBOGEESS. 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 moun- tains. But when the Sheplierds heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly upon tliem, The Shepherds ^^^ ^^^^> Wclcome to the Dclec table Moun- welcome them. tainS. * The names of the 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 ye should stay here awhile, to be acquainted with us ; and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. They then told them, that they were content to stay ; so they went to their rest that night, because it 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 Th are h Shepherds one to another. Shall we show these wonders. pilgrims somc wonders ? So when they had concluded to do it, they had them first to the top of a hill Mountain of ^^^^^^ Error, which was very steep on the Error. furthest sidc, and bid them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all to pieces by a fall that they had from the top. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? The Shepherds answered. Have you not heard of them that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus and Philetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrection of the body ? 2 Tim. ii. 17, 18. They answered, Yes. Then said the Shep- herds, 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 * There is in this laconic description a richness of beauty which no efforts of the artist can adequately portray; and in the concise dialogue of the speaker^ a eimple sublimity of eloquence which any commentary could only weaken. THE PILGEiai'S PEOGEESS. 165 how they clamber too higli, or liow they come too near the brink of this mountain." Then I saw that they had them to the top of another moun- tain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they did, they ^°^^t Caution. 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 coidd 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, Tes. Then said the Shep- ' herds, Erom that stile there goes a path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, and these, pointing to them among the tombs, came once dn pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that same stile ; and be- cause the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and there were taken by Griant Despair, and cast into Doubting Castle ; where, after they had been a while 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. xxi. 16. * Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the Shepherds. • *"Eve dilating deliglitfally before the devil of the worthy privileges God had given her, lost the dread of God's command off her heart, and fell." [45] '' Oh, the vmthought-of imaginations, frights, fears and terrors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt, yielding to desperation ! This is the man that hath his dweULng among the tombs with the dead, that is always crying out, and cutting himself. Mark v. 3. [12+, 185] »" Some retain the name of Christ, and the notion of him as a Saviour, but cast him off in the very things wherein the essential parts of his sacrifice, merits, and priesthood consist. In this lies the mysteiy of their iniquity. They dare not altogether deny that Christ doth save his people, as a priest ; but then their art is to confound his offices, untQ they jostle out of doors his justifying righteousness. Such draw away the peopla from the cross (put oat their eyes), and lead them among the infidels." [50] 15G THE pilgrim's PEOGKESa. Then I saw in my dream, that the Sheplierds had them to anotlier place, iu a bottom, where was a door in 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 sraelt the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, What means tliis ? The Shepherds told them, This is y-way o e . ^ j|^^_^^^y. ^.^ j^g|j^ ^ ^^^ ^-^^^^ hypocritcs go in at ; namely, such as sell their birthright, with Esau ; such as sell their master, with Judas ; such as blaspheme the gospel, vrith Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife. Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I per- ceive tliat these had on them, even every one, a show of pilgrim- age, as we have now ; had they not ? Shep. Yes, and held it a long time too. Hope How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast away ? - Shep. Some further, and some not so far, as these moun- tains. Then said the Pilgrims one to another, "We have 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 to- wards the end of the mountains. Then said the Shepherds one to another. Let us here show to the Pilgrims the gates of the The Shepherds' Celestial City, if they have skill to look through peispective g ass. ^^^^ perspective glass./ The Pilgrims then lovingly accepted the motion; so they had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave them their The Hill Clear. ^^^^^ ^^ j^^j,^ Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of that last / It reflects the liighest credit en Buryan's gcnins, so rich in its inventions, so aspiring in its imaginative flights, that, after such an exordium, he should have made no effort to describe ■what ■was in its ©■^vn splendour indescribable. Nothing can be more admirable than this indistinct report of the perspective glass ; it leaves scope for the exercise of the most ardent and aspiring imagination. THE pilgrim's peogeess. 157 tiling that the Shepherds had sho\Tii them, made their hands shake ; by means of which impediment, they ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ could not look steadily through the glass ; yet -^^^ 'ef-i-- they thought they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of the place. ^ Then they went away, and sang this song — Thus, by tbe Shepherds, secrets are reveal'd, Which from all other men are kept concearj. Come to the Shepherds, then, if you would see Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.* "W'hen they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of the way. Another of them bid them beware of the riatterer. The third bid them take heed that they sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them God-speed. So I awoke from my dream. » And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two Pil- grims going down the mountains along the highway towards the city. jS'ow, a little below these mountains, on the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit; from which The Country of country there comes into the way in which the ^hich camTigno- 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. <■" Such mountains round about this house do stand As one from thence may see the Holy Land." [40] * What a gallery of solemn realities is here, commending itself to all men's consciences ! It is not so much the richness of imagination, nor the sweetness and "beauty of the imagery with which tliis book is tilled, as it is the presence of these REALITIES that constitute the secret of its power over the soul. Acting the drama of a life which is the reality ; it is the spectators who are walking in a vain show. *"13ecause I would have thee think of my directions how to run to the Kingdom, take all in short in tliis little bit of paper: — 1. Get into the way. 2. Stay on it. 3. Strip and lay aside every weight that would hinder. 4. Beware of by-paths. 5. Do not stare much about thee, but ponder the path of thy feet. 6. Do not stop for those who call after thee. 7. Be not daunted with discoui-age- luents. S. Take heed of stumbling at crosses. 9. Cry hard to God; and God give thee a prosperous journey. Yet let me give thee a pair of spurs to urge on thy lumpish heart in this rich journey ; if thou winnest, then heaven, God, Cliiist, glory eternal is thine ; if thou lose, thou procurest etenial death." [57] 158 THE pilgrim's peogbess. Christian and Ignor. Sir, I was bom in the couutry that somTtX ^"-^^ lieth off tLere a little on tlie left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City. Chb. But how do you think to get in at the gate ? for you may find some diiEculty there. Ignor. As other good people do, said he. Che. But what have you to show at that gate, that may cause that the gate should be opened to you ? Ignoe. I know my Lord's will, and I have been a good liver ; The gi-ound of I pay every man his own ; I pray, fast, pay Ignorance's hope. ...f" i . , , ' ,% •" ' r J titlies, 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 Hesaithtoevery "^'^^ ^o^^^^^ ^^6 religion of mine. I hope all will fool*'^''* ^^ ^ ^ be well. And as for the gate that you talk of, all the world knows that that is a great way off of our country. I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it, nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine, plea sant green lane, that comes down from our country, the next way into the way. "When Christian saw that the man was " wise in his own conceit," he said to Hopeful whisperingly, "There is more hope of a fool than of him." Prov. xxvi. 12. And said, more- over, " "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." Ecclea. s. 3. What, shall we talk further with him, or out-go Iiim at How to carry it to Present, and so leave him to think of what he a fool. ]ja-(;]j iieard abeady, and then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good to him ? Then said Hopeful — THE PILGEIM S PEOaEESS. 159 Let Ignorance a little while now muse On what is said, and let him not refuse Good counsel to embrace, lest he remaia Stni ignorant of what 's the chiefest gain. Grod saith, those that no understanding have, Although he made them, them he wiU not save. Hope. He furtlier added, It is not good, I tliink, to say all to him 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 of him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill. Matt. xii. 45 ; Prov. v. 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 The destruction of in the town of Apostasy. But he did not per- ""^^ Turn-away. fectly see his face, for he did hang his head like a thief that is found. ■' But being once past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back a paper with this inscription, " "Wanton pro- fessor 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, christian teiieth The name of the man was Little-faith, but a good stoV'^t^^'l^ttiet man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere. The *^^*'^- thing was this : At the entering in at this passage, there comes down from Broad-way Grate, a lane called Dead Man's Lane ; so called because of the murders ^^^ that are commonly done there ; and this Little- ^^ad Man s Lane, faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit down there, and slept. Now there happened, at that time, to come down the lane, from Broad-way Gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt (three bro- thers), and they espying Little-faith, where he was, came gal- loping up with speed. Now the good man was just awake from i " Wliat a shaking, starting, timorous conscience is a guilty conscience ; it could run its head into every hole. Why did Adam hide himself when he had on his apron? The approach of God consumed and burnt oif his apron." [45] 160 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. his sleep, aud was getting up to go ou liis journey. So t.iey came up all to liiiu, and with threatening language hid him stand. At this Little-faith looked as white as a clout, and had Little - fiiitii neither power to fight nor fly. Then said Eaint- robbod by Faint- i ^.t^t xi T)j.i i- heart. Mistrust, licart, Deliver thy purse. Jiut he making no and Guilt. ' jjjjg^g ^Q ^Q -^ (fyj. j^g ^jjg Iq^I^ ^^ j^gg j^-g money), Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into They got away his pocket, puUed out theuce a bag of silver, knocked"^' him Then he Cried out. Thieves ! Thieves ! AYith '^°^^' 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, wiiere he lay bleeding as one that would bleed to death.* All this while the thieves stood by. But, at last, they hfearing that some were upon the road, and fearing lest it should be one Great-grace, that dwells in the city of Good-confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left this good man to shift for himself. Now, after a while, Little-faith came to himself, and getting up made shift to scrabble 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 rau- Littie-faithiostnot sackcd, SO those he kept still. But, as I was told, his best things, ^j^g good man was much afilicted 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, 1 Pet. iv. 18 ; nay, if I was not misinformed, he was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself alive ; ^to" big *^^to °Ms for his jewels he might not sell. But beg, jom-ney's end. ^^^ ^^ ^,^^^ ^^ ^^^j^j^ j^g ^g^^ ^^g ^g ^^^^ * " The fly in the spider's net is the emblem of the soul in such a condition. If the soul struggleth, Satan holds it down. If it makes a noise, he bites it with blasphemous mouth ; insomuch that it must needs die at last in the net, if the Lord Jesus help not. Believing is sweating work. Only strong faith can make Satan flee. Oh, the toil of a gi'acious heart in this combat, if faith be weak! The man can get no higher than his knees, till an arm from heaven help him up." [lOf] ' Determined at all hazards not to be a traitor to his God, Bunyan anticipated 'being hung ; and was anxious, in such a cause, to meet death with firmness. When his fears prevailed, he dreaded lest he should make but a scrabbling shift to clamber up the ladder. [12-f-, 334] ihr'll \ The Pilgrims escape from Doubling Castle.— P. IGO, THE piloei:m's phooeess. 161 witli many a hungry belly the most part of the rest of the way.'" Hope. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by which he was to receive his 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 with their coming upon beft°thmgs'by his him, had neither power nor skill to hide any- Tlm.^u.'""' " thing ; so it was more by good Providence than by his endeavour, that they missed of that good thing. Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that they got not his jewels from him." Che. 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 the taking away his money ; indeed, he forgot it a great part of the rest of his journey ; and besides, when at any time it came into his mind, and he began to be comforted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow up all. 1 Pet. i. 9. Hope. Alas ! poor man. This could not but jj^ ^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ be a great grief to him. ^'''^^• Che. Grief ! ay, a grief indeed. Would it not have been so to any of us, had we been used as he, to be robbed, and wounded too, and that in a strange place, as he was ? It is a 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 " " We are saved by Christ ; brought to glory by Chi'ist ; anil all our works are no otherwise made acceptable to God, but by the person and excellence of Christ. Therefore whatever the jewels are, and the bracelets and the pearls that thou shalt be adorned with, as a rewai-d of service done to God in this world, for them thou must thank Christ, and, before all, confess that be was the meritorious cause thereof." [53] " Hope, love, humility, meekness, patience, longsufferiug, com* passion, and mercy are gracious dispositions wrought in the heart by the Holy Ghost. These are the believer's jewels ; and it is his duty to keep them clean, that their beauty and lustre may be apparent. 1G2 THE PILGEIM's PaOGEESS. robbed, and how ; who they were that did it, and what he lost ; how he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with his Hfe." 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. Che. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell to this very day ; for what should he pawn them, or to whom Christian sn-jb- should he Sell them ? In all that country where vmadvis^ed speak- ^^ ^^^ robbed, his jewcls wero not accounted of; '°=- nor did he want that relief which could from thence be administered to him. Besides, had his jewels been mis- sing 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. "WTiy art thou so tart, my brother ? Esau sold his birthright, and that for a mess of pottage, and that birthright was his greatest jewel ; and if he, why might not Little-faith do so too ? Heb. xii. 16. Che. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many Adiscourse about ^^sides, and by so doing exclude themselves Esau and Little- from the chief blessing, as also that caitiff did ; but you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-faith, and also betmxt their estates. Esau's birth- right was typical, but Little-fiith's jewels were not so ; Esau's Esau was ruled by belly was his god, but Little-faith' s belly was not his lusts. gQ . j]gau's want lay in his fleshly appetite, Little-faith's did not so. Besides, Esau could see no further than to the fulfilling of his lusts ; " Behold I am at the point to die (said he), and what profit shall this birthright do me?" " " Little-faith cannot come all the way without cr3dng. So long as its holy boldness lasts, so long it can come with peace, but it will go the rest of the way with crying." [26] P Bunyan shows the difference between "spending moneyi" and jewels [12+, 232] : — " It was glorious to me to see his [Christ's] exaltation. Now I could look from myself to him, and should reckon that all those graces of God that now were green in me, were yet but like those cracked groats and fourpence-halfpennies [Irish sixpences, which, in the dearth of silver coin m England, were made current at fourpence-halfpenny], that rich men carry in their purses, when their gold is in their trunks at home. Oh, I saw that the gold was in my trunk at home,ia Christ my Lord and Saviour! Now Christ was aU; aU my wisdom, all mj righteousness, all my sanctlfication, and aU my redemption." THE pilgeih's peogeess, 163 Gen. XXV. 32. But Little-faitli, tliougli it was his lot to liavp but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from such extrava- gances, and made to see and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as Esau did his birthright. You read not anywhere that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a little ; ^sau never had therefore no marvel if, where the flesh only bears ^'"*'*- sway (as it will in that man where no faith is to resist), if he sells his birthright, and his soul and all, and that to the devil of hell; for it is with sucli, as it is with the ass, who in her occasions cannot be turned away. Jer. ii. 24. When their minds are set upon their lusts, they will have them what- ever they cost. But Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was on things divine ; his livelihood was J,. ,1, ••, 1 -If 1 Little-faith, could upon things that were spiritual, and irom above ; not live upon therefore, to what end should he that is of such ''^^^p^ ^^• 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 per- suade the turtle-dove to live upon carrion like the crow ? Though faithless ones can, for carnal tween the turtie- 1 , j_ 111J.X11 dove and the crow. 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, there- fore, my brother, is thy mistake. Hope. I acknowledge it ; but yet your severe reflection had almost made me angry. Che. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the birds that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in untrod- den 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 ; 2 would they have run else, think you, as they did, at the noise of one that was « Hopeful here expresses himself as if he had read Bunyan on Christ's love : — " But to fear man is to forget God. He taketh part with them that fear him ; so that we may holdly say, ' The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.' Heb. xiii. 6. Would it not be amazing to see a man encom- passed with chariots, and horses, and weapons of defence, yet afraid of being sparrow-blftsted, or overrun by a grasshopper ? " [52] 16i THE PILGEIil's rEOQEESS. Hopeful swaggers. ^°^'^S °^ ^^^^ ^<^^^ ^ "^^^J ^'^ ''^^ I^^^tle- faith pluck up a greater heart? He might, methinks, have stood cue brush with them, and have yielded when there had been no remedy. Che. That they are cowards, many have said, but few have No great heart found it SO in the time of trial. As for a great thCTe^s butliuie lieart. Little-faith had none ; and I perceive by ^'"'^'^- thee, my brother, hadst thou been the man con- cerned, thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And, We have more verily, siucc this *s the height of thy stomach, thai??4.en'in°tho '^^^ ^^^y are at a distance from us, should they conflict. appear to thee as they did to him, they might put thee to second thoughts. But, consider again, they are but journeymen thieves, '' they serve under the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, will come in to their aid himself, and his voice is as the roaring: of a lion. Psa. vii. 2 ; 1 Pet. v. 8. I myself his own experience havo been engaged as this Little-faith was, and I iu this case. ^^^^^^ -^ ^ 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 armour 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 iu the battle himself Hope. "Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but sup- pose that one Great-grace was in the way. Che. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-grace hath but appeared ; and no marvel ; for he The King's Cham- is the King's Champion. ^ But, I trow, you will ijiou. p^^; some difference betwixt Little-faith and the King's Champion. All the King's subjects are not his cham- pions, nor can they, when tried, do siich feats of war as he, Is it meet to think that a little child should handle Goliah as David did ? Or that there should be the strength of an ox in *■ " 'i'he persecutor of God's people is the devil's scarecrow ; the old one himself lies quat. Some will as soon venture to run the hazard of hell-fire as to be engaged by these enemies." [50J THE PILGEIU'S PROGRESS. 1G5 a wren ? Some are strong, some are weak ; some have great fliith, some Lave 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 miglit 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 othei', 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, shall see those scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of what I say. Tea, once I heard that he should say ("and that when lie was in the combat), "AVe despaired even of life." How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar ? Tea, Heman, and Hezekiah, too, though champions in their day, were forced to bestir them, when by these assaulted ; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, iipon a time, ■would go try what he could do ; but though some do say of him tliat 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 Leviathan's stur- the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon: he diness. esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee ; sling stones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble : he laugheth at the shaking of a spear." Job xli. 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 of the grasshopper : the glory of ., . ., , ° , , • 111 Tho excellent his nostrils is terrible : he paweth m the valley, mettle that is lu and rejoiceth in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not aflrighted. 1G6 THE pilgbim's peogress. neither turneth he hack from t^e 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 shouting." Job xxxix. 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 they have been foiled, nor be tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood; for such com- monly come by the worst when tried. Witness Peter, of whom I made mention before. He would swagger, ay, he would ; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and stand more for his Master than all men ; but who so foiled, and run down by these villains, as he ? "When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King's highway, two things become us to do : 1. To go out harnessed and to be sure to take a shield with us ; for it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make him yield : for, indeed, if that be wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had skiU hath said, " Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked." Eph. vi. 16. 2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy, It is good to have J^^j ^^^^ ^^ '^^^ g° '^''^^^ '•^^ himself. This made a convoy. 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 Grod, Exod. xxxiii. 15. Oh, 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. iii. 5 — 8; xxvii. 1 — 3. Bat, without him, the proud helpers "fall under the slain," Isa. x. 4. I, for my part, have been in the fray before now ; and though, through the goodness of him that is best, I am, as you see, alive ; yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Grlad 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 ua from THE PILGEIil's PEOGEESS. 167 the neit uncircumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian — Poor Little-faith ! Hast been among the thieves ' Wast robb'd ? Eemember this, whoso believes, And gets more faith, shall then a victor 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 straight as the way which they should go : and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed straight before them ; therefore, here they stood still to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold a jhe flatterer finds man, black of flesh, but covered with a very *^®™- light robe, came to them, and asked them why they stood there. They answered they were going to the Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. Pollow me, said the man, it is thither that I am going. So they christian and hia followed him in the way that but now came into ^^iiow deluded. the road, which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the city that they desired to go to, that, in little time, their foces were turned away from it ; yet they followed him. But by and by, before they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they were both rphey are taken in so entangled, that they knew not what to do ; ^ '^^'• and with that the white rpbe fell off the black man's back. Then they saw where they were. AYherefore, there they lay crying some time, for they could not get themselves out.'^ Che. Then said Christian to his feUow, Now do I see my- self in error. Did not the Shepherds bid us jj^ey bewau their beware of the flatterers ? As is the saying of condition. the Avise man, so we have found it this day, " A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet." Prov. xxix. 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 * Luther was wont to caution against the white devil as much as the black one : for Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, and his ministers as ministers of righteousness. 2 Cor. xi. 14, 15. 168 THE pilgrim's PnOORESS. he, " Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer." Psa. xvii. 4. Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net. At last they A Shining One Gspicd a Shining One coming towards them wmes to them ^.^^1^ j^ ^jjip ^f sy^-^^w cord in his hand. "When ^■itli a whip la i lis hand. lie 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. Prov. xxix. 5 ; Dan. xi. 32 ; 2 Cor. xi. 13, 14. So he rent the net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, Pollow 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, Thoy avo ex- With the Shepherds, upon the Delectable Mouu- amined.and con- tains. He askcd them then, if they had not of viotod ot lorget- ; . /. fulness. those Shepherds a note of du'ection for the way. They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and read your note ? They answered, JN'o. He asked them, "Why ? They said, they forgot. He asked, Deceivers fine moreovcr, if the Shepherds did not bid them be- spoken, ware of the Flatterer. They answered, Yes, but vrc did not imagine, said they, that this fine-spoken man had been he.* Eom. x^. 18, Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie They are -n-hipt, dowu ; which, when they did, he chastised them aiid sent on theii- ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^1^^ ^^^^ ^^^ whercin they should walk, Deut. xxv. 2 ; and as he chastised them he said, " As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous, there, fore, and repent." Eev. iii. 19 ; 2 Chron. vi. 26, 27. This done, he bid them go on their way, and take good heed to the ' " The devil, in his attempts after our destruction, maketh use of the most suitable means. The serpent, Adam knew, was subtle, therefore Satan useth Mm, thereby to catch tliis goodly creature, man. Hereby the devil least appeared [this iine-spoken man], and least appearing, the temptation soonest took tha tuidei." [40] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 169 other directions of tiie Shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way, singing — Come hither, you that walk along the wa)- ; See how the pilgrims fare that go astray ! They catehed are in an entangling net, 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget : 'Tis true they rescued were, hut yet you see. They 're scourged to boot. Let this your caution be. ISTow, after a while, 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 The Atheist meets and nearer, and at last came up unto them. His ^^'^'^' name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were going. " Che. We are going to Moimt Zion. Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter. He laughs at Che. "What is the meaning of your laughter ? ^^°'^- Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey, and you are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains. Che. "Why, man, do you think we shall not ^hey reason to- be received? _ ^'^^^'='■• Atheist. Eeceived ! There is no such place as you dream of in all this world." Che. But there is in the world to come. Atheist. When I was at home in mine own countiy, I heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this city this twenty years ; but find no more " The original from which this dangerous character is drawn, appeai-s in Grace Abounding, No. 44 : — " When I laboui-ed to rebuke him he would laugh the more: abominating these cursed principles, I became to him as gi-eat a stranger as I had been before a familiar." See the death of the Atheist in the history of Badman. " " Turn again, fool, says the devil. I wonder what frenzy it was that drove thee to thy heels, and that made thee leave so much good behind thee as other men find in the lusts of the flesh. Well, he goes back, fool as he is, conscience sleeps, and flesh is sweet ; but, behold, he again sees his own naked- ness — he sees the law whetting his axe — the world is a bubble. He also smells the brimstone which begins to burn within him. Oh! saith he, I am deluded! • Have mercy upon me, God 1' " [Jo] J, 170 THE pilgeim's pjuoouess. of it than I did tlie first day I set out. Jcr. xxii. 12 ; Eccles. X. 15. Che. 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 The Atheist takes further than you), I am going back again, and wSs world!" will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that which, I now see, is not." Christian proveth C!hk. Then Said Christian to Hopeful his his brother. fellow, Is it true which this man hath said ? Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers ; remember what it Hopeful's giaoious l^^^h cost US once already for our hearkening to answer. such kind of fcllows. What ! uo Mount Ziou ? Did we not see, from the Delectable Mountains, the gate of A remembrance the city ? Also, are we not now to walk by of loriHGr cii3.^i"isp- ments is a help faith ? Let US go ou. Said Hopcful, lest the teraptations.^^^'^" man with the whip Overtake US again. 2 Cor. v. 7. You should have taught me that lesson, which I vrill round you in the ears withal : " Cease, my son, to hear the instruc- tion that causeth to err from the words of knowledge." Prov. six. 27. I say, my brother, cease to hear him, and let us "believe to the saving of the soul." Heb. x. 39. Che. My brother, I did not put the question to thee for that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove A fruit of an thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the honest heart, honesty of thy heart. As for this man, I know" that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth, " and no lie is of the truth." 1 John ii. 21. Hope. Wow do I rejoice in hope of the glory of Grod. So " "A wicked man, thongli he may hector it at times, as tliougli lie feared neither God nor hell ; yet again, at times, his soul is even drowned with terrors. If one knew the wicked, when they are under warm convictions, then the bed shakes oi^ which they lie ; then the proud tongue doth falter in their mouth, and their knees knock one against another. Then their conscience stares, and roars, and tears, and arraigns them. Oh, none can imagine what fearful iilights a wick 2d man is in at times:" [51] TEE PILGEIM's PEOGKEga. 171 they turned away from the man ; and lie, laugliiiig at them, went his w^ay. I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came into a certain country, whose air naturally tended _, •' ' •' They are come to make one drowsy, if he came a stranger into to tiie Enchanted 4 1, TT n T 1 , -I in Groun'i. it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull and heavy of sleep ; wherefore he said unto Hopeful begins to Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy ® °"^^' that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes ; let us lie down here and take one nap. Che. By no means, said the other ; lest christian keeps sleeping, we never awake more. ^^™ awake. Hope. "Why, my brother ? Sleep is sweet to the labouring man ; we may be refreshed if we take a nap. Che. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us beware of the Enchanted Cround ? He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping ; " Therefore let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch and be sober." 1 Thess. v. 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." Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy, and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labour. Eccles. iv. 9. Che. JSTow then, said Christian, to prevent To prevent drow- ' f ^^ • smess, they fall to drowsiness m this place, let us fall into good good discourse. discourse. Hope. With all my heart, said the other. <5ood disoour*. •' _ prevents drowsi- Che. Where shall we begin ? ness. Hope. Where God began with us. But do you begin, if you please. Che. I will sing you first this song : — When saints do sleepy grow, let them come liitlier, And hear liow these two pilgrims talk together : Yea, let them learn of tliem, in any wise, The dreamers' Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb'ring eyes. Note. Saints' fellowship, if it be managed well. Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. Che. Then Christian began and said, I will ask you a 172 THE piloeim's progress. They begin at tho question. How Came you fco think at first of 1 begmuing of thtir ' _ •' | conversion. go doiug aS JOU do nOW ? Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first to look after the good of my soul ? ! Che. Tes, that is mj 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 mo in perdition and destruction. Chr. What things are they ? Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, swearing, lying, Hopeful's life uncleanncss, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, before conversion, ^h^t 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 Paithful, that was put to death for his faith and good living in Yanity Pair, tlmt " the end of these things is death," Eom. vi. 21 — 23. And that for these things' sake " cometh the Avrath of God upon the children of disobedience." Ephes. v. 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 Hopeful at first . . f -j i j i i i Biiuts his eyes commissiou 01 it ; but endcavoured, when my | agams e g . -^[^^ ^^ ^j,^^ began to be shaken with the Word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first workings of Grod's blessed Spirit upon you ? , Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was the i work of God upon me. I never thought that, by Reasons of his , . „ • V-i i j j? j i • j i resisting of the awakemugs lor sm, God at nrst begms the con- '^ . ■ version of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet ' to my flesh, and I was loath to leave it. 3. I could not tell i how to part with mine old companions, their presence and ; actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart-affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no not so much j as tlie remembrance of them upon my b^art. j again THE PILGEIM's PE0GEES3. 173 Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble. Hope. Tes, verily, but it would come into my mind again, and then I should be as bad, nay, worse, than I was before. Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind ? Hope. Many things ; as, 1. If I did but meet a good man in the wi^on be had lost , , liis sense of sin. Streets ; or, ^,i,at brought this 2. If I have heard any read in the Bible ; or, again. 3. If mine head did begin to ache ; or, 4. If I were told that some of my neighbours were sick ; or, 5. If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead ; or, 6. If I thought of dying myself; or, 7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others ; 8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to judgment. Che. And could you at any time, with ease, get oif the guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon you ? Hope. No, not I, for then they got faster hold of my con- science ; and then, if I did but think of going back to sin (though my mind was turned against it), it would be double torment to nie. Che. And how did you do then ? Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be „o loTgcr^s'LTka 1 „„J off bis guilt by sin- uamnea. fui courses, tbcn Che. And did you endeavour to mend ? mend '^^'''°'"'' *° Hope. Tes ; and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too ; and betook me to religious duties, as prayer, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbours, &c. These things did I, with many others, too much here to relate. Che. And did you think yourself well then ? Hope. Tes, for a while ; but at the last, my trouble came tumbling upon me again, and that over the Then bo thovight neck of all my reformations. ^"^^'^ ^'■'='^- Che. How came that about, since you were now reformed ? Hope. There were several thiugs brought it upon me, 174l lUE pilgeim's pbogbess. Reformation at especially sucli sayings as these : " All our last could not risihteousncsses are as tilthv rajTs." Isa. Ixiv 6 help, and why. V. i i /• i n i i " By the works ot the law shall no llesh be justified." Gal. ii. 16. "When ye shall have done all those things, say, "We are unprofitable," Luke xvii. 10; with many jiiore such like. Prom whence I began to reason with myself thus: If ALL my righteousnesses are filthy rags; if, by the ileeds of the law, no man can be justified ; and if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable, then it is but a folly to think of heaven by the law. I further thought dob?or ^by°^he ^hus : If a man runs a hundred pounds into iSm ^''°'^^^'"^ the shopkeeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch ; yet, if this old debt stands stiU in the book uncrossed, for that the shopkeeper may sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the debt. Cue. "Well, and how did you apply this to yourself ? Hope. Why, I thought thus with myself: I have, by my sins, run a great way into Grod's book, and that my now reforming will not pay ofl" that score ; therefore I should think still, under all my present amendments. But how shall I be freed from that damnation that I have brought myself in danger of, by my former transgressions ? Che. a very good application : but, pray, go on. Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mising tin^gs'S'^rs^es^ itself with the best of that I do ; so that now duties troubled J qj^ forced to couclude, that notwithstanding my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty"" to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless. Che. And what did you do then ? Hope. Do ! I could not tell what to do, until I brake my ' In some editions, this has been altered to " sin enough in one day." But iu any pei-iod of time, selecting that duty in the dischai-ge of which we have felt the most pure, there has been a mixture of sin. " For there is not a day, nor a duty ; not a day that thou livest, not a duty tliat thou dost, but will need that mercy should come after to take away thy iniquity." [o3J Solemn reflection ! THE pilgrim's peogeess. 175 mind to Faithful, for lie and I were well _,,. , ^. This made him acquainted. And lie told me, that unless I break his mind to -',.., . 1 . ^ ., Faithful, who told could obtam the righteousness oi a man that Mm the way to be never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the ^^^^ ' riffhteousness of the world could save me. Che. And did you think he spake true ? Hope. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied with mine own amendment, I had called him fool for his pains ; but now, since I see mine own infirmity, and the sin that cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced to be of his opinion. Che. But did you think, when at first he suggested it to you, that there was such a man to be found, of whom it might justly be said, that he never committed sin ? Hope. I must confess the words at first sounded strangely, but after a little more talk and company with ^t ^i^icii i^e him, I had full conviction about it. '^^'-"'^ "■' p''^^^'^*^- Che. And did you ask him what man this was, and hovsr you must be justified by him ? Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, said he, you must be justified by him, even by trusting to what he hath done by himself, in the days of his flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the tree. I asked him further, how that man's righteousness could be of that efficacy to j^^^^^ particu- iustifv another before God? And he told me lar discovery of the ti •' T 1 1 T 1 way to be saved. he was the mighty God, and did what he did, and died the death also, not for himself, but for me ; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of them, should be imputed, if I believed on Him. Heb. x. ; Eom. iv. ; Col. i. ; 1 Pet. i. Che. And what did you do then ? Hope. I made my objections against my ^^ ^^^^^.^ ^^ believing, for that I thought he was not willing acceptation. to save me. Che. And what said Faithful to you then ? Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said it was presumption; but he said, No, for I was invited to come. Matt. si. 28. Then he gave me a book of Jesus, his inditing; 176 THE PILaEIM's PROGRESS. • -better in- *° eucourago ine the more freely to coLae ; and structed. \\q gaid, Concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth. Matt. xxiv. 35, Then I asked him, A¥hat I must do when I came; and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, with all my heart and soul, the Pather to reveal him to me. Psa. xcv. 6 ; Dan. vi. 10 ; Jer, xxix. 12, 13. Then I asked him further, how I must make my supplication to him ? And he said, Gro, and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where he sits all the year long, to give pardon and forgiveness to them that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect : God be merciful He IS bid to pray. ^^ ^^ ^ sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ ; for I see, that if his righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world ; and moreover, that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed) ; Lord, take tlierefore this opportunity, and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy son Jesus Christ, Amen. Ex. xxv. 22 ; Lev. xvi. 2 ; Num. vii. 89 ; Heb. iv. 16. Chb. And did you do as you were bidden ? Hope. Yes ; over, and over, and over. e prays. Che. And did the Father reveal his Son to you ? Hope. 'Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, nor fifth ; no, nor at the sixth time neither. Che. What did you do then ? Hope. "What ! why I could not tell what to do. Che. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? He thought to Hope. Tes; an hundred times twice told, leave oflf praying. Q^^ ^^d what was the reason you did not ? Hope. I believed that that was true which had been told me,, to wit, that without the righteousness of this leave o£f praying, Christ, all the world could not save me ; and ^*'^' therefore, thought I with myself, if I leave off I die, and I can but die at the throne of grace. And withal, this came into my mind, " Though it tarry, wait for it j because THE pilgeim's peogeess. 177 it will surely come, it will not tarry." Hab. ii. 3. So I con- tinued praying until the Father showed me his Son. Che, And how was he revealed unto you ? Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding, Eph. i. IS, 19 ; and ci^rist is revealed thus it was: One day I was very sad, I think t" i^™. and how. sadder than at any one time in my life, and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the ever- lasting damnation of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus Christ look down from heaven upon me, and saying, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Acts xvi. 31. But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. And he answered, "My grace is sufficient for thee." 2 Cor. xii. 9.^ Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing ? And then I saw from that saying, " He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst," that believing and coming was all one; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ. John vi. 35. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further. But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am be indeed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee? And I heard him say, "And him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." John vi. 37. Then I said, But how. Lord, must I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon thee ? Then he said, " Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." lTim.i.15. " He is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth." Eom. X. 4. " He died for oiu- sins, and rose again for our justifica- tion." Eom. iv. 25. "He loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood." Eev. i. 5. " He is mediator betwixt God and us." 1 Tim. ii. 5. "He ever liveth to make intercession for us." Heb. vii. 25. From all which I gathered, that I must y " As I thought my case most sad and fearful, these words did with great power suddenly break in upon me, ' My grace is sufficient for thee," three times together. Oh, methought every word w.a8 a mighty word for me ; as my, and grace, anisvjjicient, and for thee; they were then, and sometimes are still, far bigger than ethers be." L 12+ 206] 178 XHE PILOEIM'S PEOaiiESS. look for righteousness in his person, and for satisfaction for niy sins by his blood ; that what he did in obedience to his Father' g law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for lim- self, but for him. that will accept it for his salvation, and bo tliaukfiil. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ.* Che. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed ; but tell me particularly what effect this had upon your spirit. Hope. It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that Grod the Father, though he be just, can justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; for there never came thought into my heart before now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus ; yea, I thought that had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus. I saw then in my dream that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, howfar yonder youngster loitereth behind. Che. Ay, ay, I see him ; he careth not for our company. Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto. Che. That is true ; but I warrant you, he thinketh otherwise. Hope. That, I think, he doth ; but, however, let us tarry for him. So they did. ranee °™mes^ip Then Christian said to him. Come away, man, again ; their talk. ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^ p Igkoe. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a great deal than in company, unless I like it the better. Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell ' The Lord's dealings witli Ws children are various ; some are shaken with terror, others are more gently drawn, as with cords of love. Believers should not make their experiences standards one for another ; they are hrought to the same point of rejecting sinf'ol self, and helievingon the Lord Jesus Christ as their complcta salvation. THE piloeim's peogbess. 179 you he cared not for our company ? But, however, said he, come up, aud let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you ? How stands it between Grod and your soul now ? IgNOE. I hope well ; for I am always full of ignorance's hope, T , . j_\ j_ -J. ■ J J. and the ground of good motions, that come into my mind, to com- it. fort me as I walk. Prov. xxviii. 26. Che, What good motions ? pray, tell us, Igkoe. Why, I think of God and heaven. Che. So do the devils and damned souls. Igkoe. But I think of them and desire them. Che. So do many that are never like to come there. " The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing." Prov. xiii. Ignoe. But I think of them, and leave all for them. Che. That I doubt ; for leaving all is a hard matter : yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven ? Ignoe. My heart tells me so. Che. The wise man says, " He that trusts his own heart is a fool." Prov. xxviii. 26. Igkoe. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good one, Che. But how dost thou prove that ? Igkoe. It comforts me in hopes of heaven Che. That may be through its deceitfulness ; for a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing for which he yet has no ground to hope. Igkoe. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore my hope is well grounded. Che. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together? Igkoe. My heart tells me so. Che. Ask my fellow if I be a thief ! Thy heart tells thee so ! Except the Word of God beareth witness in this matter, other testimony is of no value. Igkoe. But is it not a good heart that hath good thoughts ? and is not that a good life that is according to God's com- mandments ? Che. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's commandments ; but it is one thing, indeed, to have these, and another thing omv to think so. ISO THE pilgrim's PE0GEES3. Ignob. Pray, what count you good tlioughts, and a life ac- cordiusr to God's commandments ? Cmi. There are good thoughts of divers kinds ; some respect- ing ourselves, some Grod, some Christ, and some other things. Ignob. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves ? ■What are Che. Such as agree with the Word of Grod. tfood thoughts. i(j]sfOR. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the Word of God ? Chb. When Ave pass the same judgment upon ourselves which the Word passes. To explain myself — the Word of God saitli of persons in a natural condition, " There is none righteous, there is none that doeth good." Rom. iii. It saith also, that " every imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually." Gen. vi. 5. And again, "The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." Horn. viii. 21. Now then, Avhen we think thus of ourselves, having sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones, because according to the Word of God. Ignoe. I will never believe that my heart is thus bad. Che. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought concerning thyself in thy life. But let me go on. As the Word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment upon our ways ; and when otte thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judgment which the Word giveth of both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto." Ignob. Make out your meaning. Che. Why, the Word of God saith that man's ways are crooked ways ; not good, but perverse. Psa. cxxv. 5 ; Prov. ii. 15. It saith they are naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it. Eom. iii. Now, when a man thus thinketh of his ways ; I say, when he doth sensibly, and with heart-humilia- tion, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the AVord of God.* ° This distinction is illustrated in Banyan's Catechism: " Keep thine eyes upon thy heart and also upon God's word ; and thou shalt see the ■wickedness in thine heart." " Believe that God hath his eyes upon thy heart and all thy goings, and that judgment as to thy faithfulness proceeds out of his mouth." * " I saw that it was not my good frame of heart that made my righteousness better, nor yet my bad frame that made my righteousness worse ; for my righteousf ness was Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." 112,^ 229j THE PILGEIil's PHOGBESS. 181 Ignok. "What are good thouglits concerning God ? Che. Even as I have said concerning ourselves, wlien our tliouglits of God do agree with what the "Word saith of him ; and that is, when we think of his being and attributes as the "Word hatli taught, of which I cannot now discourse at large ; but to speak of him with reference to us : Then we have right thoughts of God, when we think that he knows us better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us when and where we can see none in ourselves ; when we think he knows our in- most thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always open unto his eyes ; also, when we think that all our righteous- ness stinks in his nostrils, and that, therefore, he cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confidence, even in all our best 2)erformances. Igxoe. Do you think that I am such a fool as to think God can see no further than I ? or, that I would come to God in the best of my performances ? Che. Why, how dost thou think in this matter ? Ignoe. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for justification. Che. How! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities ; but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of wliat thou dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before God. How, then, dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? Ignoe. I believe well enough for all that. Che. How dost thou believe ? Ignoe. I believe that Christ died for sinners ; and that I shall be justified before God from the curse. The faith of ignor- through his gracious acceptance of my obedi- °■^'^'^• ence to his law. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father, by virtue of his merits ; and so shall I be justified. Che. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith. 1. Thou believest with a fantastical fiiith ; for this faith is nowhere described in the Word. 2. Thou believest with a false fiiith ; because it taketh justi- 1S2 THE pilgrim's peogeess. fication from the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own. 3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions ; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, which is false." 4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under wrath, in the day of Grod Almighty ; for true justi- fying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its condition by the law, upon flying for refuge unto Christ's righteousness, which righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which he maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted with Grod ; but his per- sonal obedience to the law, in doing and suifering for us what that required at our hands ; this righteousness, I say, true faith accepteth ; under the skirt of which, the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before Grod, it is accepted, and acquit from condemnation. Igkoe. What ! would you have us trust to what Christ, in his own person, has done without us ? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate i:s to live as we list ; for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we believe it ? Che. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou ; even this thy answer demonstrateth what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath of Grod. Tea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, which is, to bow and win over the heart to Grod in Christ, to love his name, his word, ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly imaginest. Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven.'^ Ignoe. "What ! you are a man for revelations ! I believe Ignorance jangles ^^^^^ what both you, and all the rest of you, say with them. about that matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains. ' " Justification comes, not by imitating Christ, but through faith in Him. To feed on Jesus is by respecting him as a curse for us. I am pleased with observ- ing that none of the wonders in Egypt could deliver Israel until the Lamb was slain." [13+] •* " I pleased God to reveal his Son in me," that is, he had such a spiritual TttE PILGEIM s peoghess. 183 Hope. "Why, man ! Christ is so Md in G-odfrom the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he cannot by any man be savingly known, unless God the Pather reveals him to them." Igxob. That is your faith, but not mine; ^^ gpg^i.g re- yet mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, PfhTt'^'h^^knowI though I have not in my head so many -whim- ^°^- sies as you. Chb. Give me leave to put in a word. Tou ought not so slightly to speak of this matter ; for this I will boldly affirm, even as my good companion hath done, that no man can know Jesus Christ but by the revelation of the Father, Matt, xi, 27 ; yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his mighty power ; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. 1 Cor. xii. 3 ; Eph. i. 18, 19. Be awakened, then, see thine own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus ; and by his righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, for he himself is God, thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. Ig>'ok. Tou go so fast, I cannot keep pace with you. Do you go on before ; I must stay a while be- , . y ° •' The talk broke up. hmd. Then they said — Well, Ignorance, wilt tliou yet foolish be. To slight good counsel, ten times given thee ? And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know, Ere long, the evil of thy doing so. Jtemeniber, man, in time, stoop, do not fear ; Good counsel taken well, saves : therefore hear . But if thou yet shall slight it, thou wUt be The loser (Ignorance), I 'II warrant thee. Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow : — Che. AVell, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I must walk by ourselves again. sight of Christ, that his heart embraced him, his whole man was swallowed up \nth the love cf him, so that he cried out in the joy of his soul. This is my be- loved and my friend — my Saviour, my God, and my salvation. « Many of these revelations appear in the Grace Abounding, as " that scripture fastened on my heart," No. 201 ; "that sentence darted in upon me," No. 20A; "these words did with great power break in upon me," No. 20(3 ; " suddenly this sentence fell upon my soul," 22'e) ; and many others 184 THE PILGKIM's PEOGEESS. So I saw in my dream tliat they went on apace before, and Ignorance he came hobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, It pities me much for this poor man, it will cer- tainly go ill with him at last. Hope. Alas ! there are abundance in our town in his condi- tion, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that of pilgrims too ; and if there be so many in our parts, how many, think you, must there be in the place where he was born ? Che. Indeed the "VYord saith, " He hath blinded their eyes, lest they should see," &c. But now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men ? Have they at no time, think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fears that their state is dangerous ? Hope. Kay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the elder man. Che. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may ; but they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such con- victions tend to their good ; and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presumptuously continue to flatter themselves in the way of their own hearts. Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much to The good use of men's good, and to make them right, at then' fear. beginning to go on pilgrimage. Che. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right ; for so says the "Word, " The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." Prov. i. 7 ; ix. 10 ; Ps. cxi. 10 ; Job xxviii. 28./ Hope. How will you describe right fear ? Che. True or right fear is discovered by Eight foar. . , . ■, . three thmgs : — 1. By its rise ; it is caused by saving convictions for sin. 2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salvation. 3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a great reverence of God, his Word, and ways, keeping it tender, and making it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand or to the left, to f " Take heed of hardening thy heart at aiij' time, against convictions or judg- meuts. Beware of a hard heart. Jieware of hardening your soft heart. The fear of the Lord is the pulse of the soul. Pulses that beat best are the best signs of life ; but the worst show that life is present. Intermitting pulses are dangerous. David and Peter had an intermitting pulse, in reference to this fear." [24] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 185 anything that may dishonour God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak reproachfully. Hope, "Well said ; I believe you have said the truth. Are vre now almost got past the Enchanted Ground ? Che. Why, art thou weary of this discourse ? Hope. No, verily, bub that I would know where we are. Che. We have not now above two miles further to go there- on. But let us return to our matter. Now why ignorant the ignorant know not that such convictions as convictlons.^'^'^^ tend to put them in fear are for their good, and j^ enerai therefore they seek to stifle them. Hope. How do they seek to stifle them ? Che. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil (though indeed they are wrought of God) ; . ^^^^ and, thinking so, they resist them as things that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, when, alas for them, poor men that they are, they have none at all! and therefore they harden their hearts against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear ; and therefore, in despite of them, wax presumptuously confident. 4. They see that those fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old self-holi- ness, and therefore they resist them with all their might. Hope. I know something of this myself; for, before I knew myself, it was so with me. Che. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbour Igno- rance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question. Hope. With all my heart, but you shall still begin. Che. Well then, did you not know, about ten years ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was a for- Taikaboutone ward man in religion then ? Temporaiy. Hope. Know him ! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a town about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next 1 , mil Where he dwelt. door to one Turnback. Che. Eight, he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, that man was much awakened once ; I believe jj^ ^^^ towardiy that then he had some sight of his sins, and of °^''°- the wages that were due thereto. Hope I am of your mind, for, my house not being above M 186 1HE pilgeim's peogbess. three miles from him, he would ofttimes come to me, anjl that' with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, aL.d was not alto- gether without hope of him; but one may see, it is not every one that cries, Lord, Lord. Chb. He told me once that he was resolved to go on pil- grimage, as we do now ; but all of a sudden lie grew ac- quainted with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me. Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a little inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and such others. Che. It may be very profitable, but do you begin. Hope. Well, tben, there are in my judgment four reasons for it : — 1. Thougb the consciences of such men are awakened, yet Reasons wh their minds are not changed ; therefore, when towardiy ones go the power of guUt wcaroth away, that which, provoked them to be religious ceasetb, where- fore they naturally turn to their own course again, even as we see the dog that is sick of what be has eaten, so long as his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all ; not that he doth, this of a free mind (if we may say a dog has a mind) , but be- cause it troubleth bis stomach ; but now, when his sickness is over, and so bis stomacb eased, his desire being not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all, and so it is true which is written, " The dog is turned to his own vomit again." 2 Peter ii. 22.'' Thus I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of hell, and the fears of damnation, chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and happiness die, and they return to their course again. 2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do over- master them ; I speak now of the fears that they have of men, for " the fear of man briugeth a snare." Pro v. sxix. 25. So then, «■ In Hoffman's " Pilgi-im," in verse, tMs sentence is, " And nature will return, like Pope, to pork ; " alluding to one of the Popes, who loved pork ; being sicks his physicians forbade it : he cried out, " Give me my pork, in spite of God." THE pilgsim's peogbess. 187 tliougli thoy seem to be hot for heaven, so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts ; namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or, at least, of bringing themselves into unavoidable and unnecessary troubles, and so they fall in with the world again. 3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in their way ; they are proud and haughty, and religion in their eye is low and contemptible ; therefore, when they have lost their sense of hell and vrrath to come, they return again to their former course. 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them. They like not to see their misery before they come into it ; though perhaps the sight of it fixst, if they loved that sight, might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe. But because tliey do, as I hinted before, even shun the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways as will harden them more and more. Che. Tou are pretty near the business, for the bottom of all is, for want of a change in their mind and will. And there- fore they are but like the felon that standeth before the judge, he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily, but the bottom of all is the fear of the halter ; not that he hath any detestation of the off'ence, as is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still, whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be other- wise. Hope. Xow I have showed you the reasons of their going back, do you show me the manner thereof.* Chb, So I will willingly. *" Three young fellows, Mr. Tradition, Mr. Human-wisdom, and Mr. Man's- invention, proffered their services to Shaddai, and, at their entreaty, they were listed. Being in the rear, they were taken prisoners. Then Diabolus asked them if they were willing to serve him. They told him, that as they did not so much live by religion as by the fates of fortune, they would serve him. So ha made two of them sergeants; but he made Mr. Man's-invention his standard- bearer." [27 Holy WarJ\ 188 THE PILOEIil's PROGRESS. 1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from How tho apostiito the remembrance of God, death, and judgment goes back. ^0 come. 2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the like. 3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians. 4. After that they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, read- ing, godly conference, and the like. 5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of the godly ; and that devilishly, that they may have a seeming colour to throw religion (for the sake of some infirmity they have espied in them) behind their backs. 6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal, loose, and wanton men. 7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret ; and glad are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do it through their example. 8. After this they begin to play with little sins openly. 9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves as they are. Thus, being launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish in their ovm deceivings. Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the Pilgrims were got over the Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season. Is. Ixii. 4. Tea, here they heard continually the sing- ing of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. Can. ii. 10 — 12. In this country the sun shineth night and day ; wherefore tliis was beyond the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair, neither could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle.* Here they were within ' During the last days of that man of God, Dr. Payson, he said, " 'Wlien I read Bunyan's description of the Land of Eeulah, where the sun shines and the birds BLDg day and night, I doubted whether there was such a place ; but my experi- ence has convinced me of it, and it infinitely transcends all my previous concep- THE PILGEIil'S PEOaEESS. 189 Bight of the city they were going to, also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also, the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was renewed ; yea, here, "As the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them." Is. Ixii. 5. Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in this place they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage. Yerse 8. Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, *' Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh ! Behold, his reward is with him!" Verse 11. Here all the inhabitants of the country called them, " The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out," &c. Yerse 12. Xow, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the kingdom to which they were bound ; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and pre- cious stones, also the street thereof was paved with gold ; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the reflec- tion of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick ; Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same disease. Wherefore, here they lay by it a whUe, crying out, because of their pangs, "If ye find my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love." Can. V. 8.^' But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and tions. The Celestial City is full in my view. Its glories have been upon me, its breezes fan me, its odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me from it but the Kiver of Death, which now appears but as a rill that may be crossed at a step. } No other language than that of Bunyan himself, penised in the pages of his own sweet book, could be successful in portraying this beauty and glory; for now he gives up himself without restraint so entirely to the sea of bliss that surrounds him, and to the gales of heaven that are wafting him on, and to the sounds of melody that float in the whole air around him, that nothing in the English language can be compared with this whole closing part of the " Pilgrim's Progress," for its entrancing splendour, yet serene and simple loveliness. The colouring is that of heaven in the soul ; and Bunyan has poured his own heaven- entranced soul into it. With all its depth and power, there is nothing exaggerated, find it is made up of the simplest and most scriptural materials and images. Wa seem to stand in a flool of light, poured on us from the open gates of paradise. 190 THE ptlgkim's progeess. nearer, wliere were orcliards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the highway. Now, as they came np to these places, behold the gardener stood in the way, to whom the Pilgrims said. Whose goodly vineyards and gardens are these ? He answered, They are the King's, and are planted here for his own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gar- dener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh them- selves with the dainties. Dent, xxiii. 24. He also showed them there the King's walks, and the arbours where he delighted to be ; and here they tarried and slept. jS'ow I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this time than ever they did in all their journey ; and being in a muse thereabout, the gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at the matter ? It is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go down so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.* So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the city ; but, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for " the city was pure gold, " Rev. xxi. 18) was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open face behold it, but through an iustrumeut made for that pur- pose. 2 Cor. iii. 18. So I saw, that as I went on, there met them two men, in raiment that shone like gold ; also their faces shone as the light.' These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came ; and they told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and pleasures they had * Mr. Flavel, being on a journey, improved the time by meditation ; bis mind s^rew intent, till at length he had such ravishing tastes of lieavenly joys, and such full assurance of his interest therein, that he lost sight of this world and all its concerns, so that for hours he knew not where he was. At last, perceiving him- self faint, he alighted from his horse and sat down at a spring, where he refreshed himsSlf, earnestly desiring, if it were the will of God, that he might there leave thn world. His spirit reviving, he finished liis journey in the same deliglitful frame? and all that night passed without sleep, the joy of the Lord still overiiowing him, so that he seemed an inhabitant of the other world. — {Pneumalologia, 4to, p. 210.) ' Who are these ministering spirits, that the author calls " men ? " Are they the glorified inhabitants of the Celestial City ? Moses and Elias appeared at the transfiguration ; so the spirit who spake with .John, Kev. sx. 10, was his fellow- eervant. Are these " spirits of just men made perfect" — the angel-ministering spirits wiich are sent forth to minister for them who shaU be heirs of salvation? Heb. k J i ; xii. 22, 23. THE PILGBIM's PROGEESS. 191 met in tlia way ; and they told them. Then said the men thab met them, Tou have but two difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the city.™ Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them ; so they told them they would. But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together, until they came in sight of the gate. Kow, I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river, but there was no bridge to go over : the river was very deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims were much stunned ; but the men that went with them said, Tou must go through, or you cannot come at the gate. The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the gate; to which they answered, Tes ; but p^athisnotwei- there hath not anv, save two, to wit, Enoch and come to nature, ^ , , , . though by ifc wo Elijah, been permitted to tread that path, since pass out of this the foundation of the world, nor shall, until the ^°^ "^ °^ last trumpet shall sound. 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. The Pilgijims then especially Christian, began to despond in their minds, ana looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, by which they might escape the river. Then they asked the men if the waters were all of a depth. They said, No ; yet they could not help them in that case : for, said An*^cl3 IigIo lis they, you shall find it deeper or shallower, as not "comfortably b,. • II T7-' /• j_i 1 through death. elieve in the King oi the place. They then addressed themselves to the water ; and entering, Christian began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep waters ; the billows go over my head, all his waves go over me ! Selah," Then said the other. Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the " What are these two diflSculties ? Death without, and unbelief within. " Bunyan died in perfect peace, though it is probable that he expected darkness in the trying hour. " Aye, this will malce thee cry, though thou he as good as David. Wherefore learn by his sorrows to serve thy generation, by the will of God, before falling asleep. God can pardon thy sins, and yet make them a bitter thing and a burden at death. It is easy to him to pardon, and yet break all thy bones ; or show himself in such dreadful majesty, that heaven and earth shall tremble at his Eresence." '[47] 192 THE pilgrim's peogeess. bottom, and it is good. Then said Christian, flict at the hour of Ah ! my frieud, " the sorrows of death have com- passed me about ; " I shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey ; and with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember, nor orderly talk of any of those sweet re- freshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and heart fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits, for ever and anon he would intimate so much by words." Hope- ful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's head above water ; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while, he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us ; but Christian would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for ; you have been Hope- ful ever since I knew you. And so have you, said he to Chris- tian. Ah, brother ! said he, surely if I was right he would now arise to help me ; but for my sins he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My brother, you have quite forgot the text, where it is said of the wicked, " There are no bands in their death, but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men." Psa. Ixxiii. 4, 5. These troubles and dis- tresses that you go through in these waters are no sign that God hath forsaken you ; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. • " Suppose the poor Christian upon a sick-hed, with ten thousand sick-bed fears, begotten by a review of his profession, by dreadful suggestions of the devil — the eight of death and the grave: fears begotten by the withdrawing of God and Christ, and it maybe, bythe appearing of the devil himself. Thesemade David cry out of the sorrows of death, and the pains of hell. But out of all these the Lord will save 'iiia people." [21] THE pilgeim's pbogeess. 193 Then I saw in my dream, tliat Christian was as in a muse a while. To whom also Hopeful added this word, ^^.^^-^^ ^eiiv- Be of jrood cheer. Jesus Christ maketh thee ered from his ° ^, . . 1 T J -,1 fears m death. whole ; and with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, Oh ! I see him again, and he tells me, " When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee." Isa. xliii. 2. Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian there- fore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over. Now, upon the bank of the river, on the ^, , , ' i^ , , . Tho angels do other side, tney saw the two shining men again, wait for them, so who there waited for them ; wherefore, being passed out of this come out of the river, they saluted them saying, '^°'- AYe are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for those that shall be heirs of salvation. Thus they went along towards the gate. Now, now look how the holy pilgrims ride. Clouds are their Chariots, Angels are their Guide : Who would not here for him all hazards run, That thus provides for his when this world 's done. Now you must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill "but the Pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the arms ; They have put also, they had left their mortal garments behind off mortality. them in the river, for though they went in with them, they came out without them. They, therefore, went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation upon which the city was framed was higher than the clouds-i* They therefore went up through the regions of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.? i'Bunyan thus describes the feelings of the pilgi-im, while clothed with mor tality, looking up to the heights of heaven. "Christ could mount up — Elijah iiad a chariot of fire— Enoch was taken by God. But I, poor I, how shall I get tliither? How often are eonsWeriTijr thoughts wanting in professors ! " [54J The question is happily solved in Christian's and Hopeful's experience ; they left all tlieir mortal garments and burdens behind them in tho river, and their free spirits for the first time fcdt the sweets of liberty in their perfection. 1" I know that all who go to paradise are conducted thither by these holy ones ; but yet, for all 194 THE pilgrim's peogeess. The talk they had with the Shining Ones ■« as about thu glorj of the place ; who told them that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible. There, said they, is the " Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect." Heb. xii. 22 — 24. Tou are going now, said they, to the paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of Ufe, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity. Eev. ii. 7 ; iii. 4 ; xxii. 5. There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the earth, to wit^ sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death, " for the former things are passed away." Tou are now going to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets — men that God hath taken a:way from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness. Isa. Ivii. 1, 2 ; Ixv. 17. The men then asked. What must w^e do in the holy place ? To whom it was answered, Tou must there receive the comforts of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow ; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings for the King by the way. Gal. vi. 7. In that place you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy One, for " there you shall see him as he is." 1 John iii. 2. There also you shall serve him continually with praise, with shouting, and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the world, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again, that are gone thither before you ; and there you shall with joy receive, even every one that follows into the holy place after you. There also shall you be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. "When he shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, that, such as die under the cloud, for unchristian walking, may meet with dark- ness on that day, and go heavily hence. But as for those who have been faithful to their God, they shall from eaith see glory." [47] THE priGRIM S PEOGBESS. 195 you shall come with, him ; aud when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment, you shall sit by him; yea, and -when he shall pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let thera be angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that judgment, because they were his and your enemies. 1 Thes. iv. 13 — 17 ; Jude 14 ; Dan. vii. 9, 10 ; 1 Cor. vi. 2, 3, Also, when he shall again return to the city, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet, and be ever with him. Now while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them ; to whom it was said, by the other two Shining Ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name ; and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Eedeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, " Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb." Eev. six. 9. There came out also at this time to meet them, several of the King's trum- peters, clothed in white and shining raiment, who, with melo- dious noises, and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian and his fel- low with ten thousand welcomes from the world ; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet. This done, they compassed them round on every side ; some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left (as it were to guard them through the upper regions), continually sounding as they went, with melo- dious noise, in notes on high : so that the very sight was to them that could behold it, as if heaven itself was come down to meet them.*" Thus, therefore, they walked on together; •"Bunyan has, vritli great beauty, brought in the ministry of angels, in the regions of the air, to be passed through in rising, and still rising, higher and higher, before they come to that mighty mount on which he has placed the gates of the Celestial City. The angels receive his pilgrims as they come up from the River of Death, and form for them a bright, seraphic convoy, whose conversation prepares them gradually for that exceeding and eternal weight of glory which ig to be theirs as they enter in at the gate. He has thus, in this passage from the river to the gate, done what no other devout writer, or dreamer, or speculator has ever done ; he has filled what perhaps in most minds is a mere blank, or at most a bewilderment and mist of glory, with definite and beatific images, with the 19G THE PILGBlil'a PEOGBESS. and as they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even w ith joyful sound, -n-ould, by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother, how wel- come they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them ; and now were these two men, as it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view, and they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there, with such com- pany, and that for ever and ever. Oh, by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed ! And thus they came up to the gate. Kow, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it in letters of gold, " Blessed are they that do his com- mandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." Eev. xxii. 14. Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men bid them call at the gate ; the which, when they did, some looked from above over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c., to whom it was said. These pilgrims are come from the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place ; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate,' which they had received in the beginning ; those, therefore, were carried in to the King, who, when he had read them, said, "Where are the men ? To whom it was answered, They are standing without the gate. The King then com- manded to open the gate, "That the righteous nation," said he, "which keepeth the truth, may enter in." Isa. xxvi. 2} sympatliising communion of gentle spirits, who form an outer porch and perspec tive of glory, through which the soul passes into uncreated light. He has thrown a bridge, as it were, for the imagination, over the deep, sudden, open space of an untried spiritual existence ; where it finds, ready to receive the soul that leaves tlie body, holy ministering spirits. '"A certificate To show thou seest thyself most desolate ; Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd." [40] * Blessed indeed is that man who, while encumbered with a sinful body, can truly say, " I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." In him all the command- ments are obeyed — all sins washed away — and his soul clothed with immortality. THE PILGEIM's PKOGEESS. 197 IS'ow I saw in my dream that these two men went iu at the gate : and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There was also that met them with harps and cro^^-ns, and gave them to them — the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, " Enter tb INTO THE JOT OE TOUE LoED." " I also heard the men them- selves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying, " BLEssixa AND nONOUE, AND GLOEY, AND POWEE, BE UNTO HIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THEONE, AND UNTO THE LaMB, EOE EYEE AND ETEE." Eev. V. 13. Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold, the City shone like the sun ; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord." Rev. iv. 8. And after that they shut up the gates ; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them. Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up ignorance comes to the river side; but he soon got over, and "p to the river, tliat without half that difficulty which the other two men met with. Por it happened that there was then in that place, one Vain-hope, a ferryman, that with his boat vain-hope does helped him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ferry him over. ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came alone ; neit her did any man meet him with the least encouragement. Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord: they enter the Celestial City. Tliis is the righteous nation, which keepeth the truth. O my reader, would you be one of the glorified inhabitants of that city ? Then must you Live the life of faith ; so run that ye may obtain : ever be found looking unto Jesus. « " Oh, what acclamations of joy will there be, when all the children of God meet together, without the fear of being disturbed by Antichrist! How will the heavens echo, when the Bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell with her husband ! If you would be better satisfied what the beatific vision means, my request is, that you would live holily, and thus go and see. Christ is the desire of all nations, the joy of angels, the delight of the Father. What solace must that soul be filled with, which hath the possession of Christ to all eternity." [68] 198 THE pil&bim's pkogekss. When he was come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him ; but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the gate, Whence came you ? and what would you have ? He answered, I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets. Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King ; so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they. Have you none ? But the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two Shining Ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the City, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction l" So I awoke, and behold it was a dream. THE COIn^CLUSIOK Now, Reader, I have told my dream to thee ; See if tkou canst interpret it to me, Or to tliyself, or neighbom* ; but take heed Of misinterpreting ; for that, instead Of doing good, will but thyself abuse : By misinterpreting, evil ensues. " This is most awful. Consider it deeply. How far may sucli an one go ? This important question is very solemnly argued in Bunyan's Law and Grace. " He may be received into church-fellowship — and, like the foolish vzV^i/js, be clear from outward pollution — and had their lamps, but still lost their precious souls. They may bear office in the church, as Judas carried the bag, and as Demas ! They may become preachers and mmisters of the gospel, with rare gifts, and a fluent tongue, like an angel, to speak of the hidden mj-steries ; but may die under the curse. They may have the gifts of the Spirit and prophecy, and be but a Balaam. They Inay stand thus until Christ reveals them. They may, with confidence, say, Lord, Lord, have we not eaten and drank in thy presence, and taught in thy name, and in thy name have cast out devils? and yet, poor creatures, be shut out!" [4] In Bunyan's Strait Gale the reasons why Ignorance missed of heaven are given in solemn detail: " It will be fearful and very full of amazement." [22] IHE pilgeim's peoqeess. li.S9 Take heed, also, that thou be not extreme. In playing with the outside of my dream : Nor let my figure or similitude Put thee into a laughter or a feud. Leave this for boys and fools ; but as for thee, Do thou the substance of my matter see. Put by the curtains, look within my veil. Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail, There, if thou seekest them, such things to find, As will be helpful to an honest mind. What of my dross thou findest there, be bold To throw away, but yet preserve the gold ; What if my gold be wrapped up in ore ? — None throws away the apple for the core. But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but 'twill make me dream again. »MD OF THE FIRST PiJiT, Part II. FKONTISPIECE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM ^fjis lUoxlti to tfjat ixiljidj is to come. THE SECOND PART. THE AUTHOR'S WAY OP SENDIXG POETS HIS SECOND PAET OF THE PILGEIM. Go now, my little book, to every place Where my first Pilgrim has but shown his face. Call at their door. If any say, AVho 's there ? Then answer thou, Christiana is here. If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, "With all thy boys ; and then, as thou know'st how. Tell who they are, also from w'hence they came ; Perhaps they know them by their looks, or name. But if they should not, ask them yet again If formerly they did not entertain One Christian, a PUgrim ? If they say They did ; and were delighted in his way : Then let them know, that those related were Unto him ; yea, his wife and children are. Tell them, that they have left their house and homOj Are turned Pilgrims, seek a world to come ; That they have met with hardships in the way. That they do meet -v^ith troubles night and day ; That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils, Have also overcome a many evUs. Yea, tell them also of the next, who have. Of love to pilgrimage, been stout and brave Defenders of that way, and how they still Refuse this world, to do their Father's will. Go, tell them also of those dainty things, That pilgrimage imto the Pilgrim brings. Let them acquainted be, too, how they are Beloved of their King, under his care : AVhat goodly mansions for them he provides. Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides 202 THE AUTnOli'S WAT OP How brave a calm they Tvill enjoy at last, Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast. Perhaps -with heart and hand they will embrace Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace Thee, and thy fellows, mth such cheer and fare, As show will they of Pilgrims lovers are OBJECTION I. But how, if they will not believe of me That I am truly thine ; 'cause some there be That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name. Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same ; And by that means have wrought themselves into The hands and houses of I know not who ? ANSWER. 'Tis true, some have of late, to counterfeit My Pilgrim, to their ovm my title set ; Yea others, half my name and title too Have stitched to their book, to make them do ; But yet they, by their features, do declare Themselves not mine to be, whose e'er they are. If such thou meet'st mth, then thine only way Before them all, is, to say out thy say, In thine own native language, which no man Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can. If, after all, they stiU of you shall doubt, Thinking that you, like gipsies, go about In naughty wise, the country to defile. Or that you seek good people to beguile "With things unwarrantable ; send for me, And I -vdU testify you Pilgrims be. Yea, I will testify that only you My Pilgrims are ; and that alone will do. OBJECTION II. But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him. Of those that wish him damned, life and limb. What shall I do, when I at such a door For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more ? ANSWER. Fright not thyself, my book, for such bugbears Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. My Pilgrim's book has travell'd sea and land. Yet could I never come to understand That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. SEIiTDES'G rOETH HIS SECOND PABT. 203 In France and Flanders, where men kill eacli other, My Pilgrim is esteem' d a friend, a brother. In Holland too, 'tis said, as I am told, My Pilgrim is -with some worth more than gold, Highlanders and wild Irish can agree My Pilgrim should familiar -with them be. 'Tis in New England under such advance, Receives there so much loving countenance, As to be trimm'd, new clothed, and deck'd "svith gems That it may show its feattires and its limbs, Yet more ; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, That of bim thousands daily sing and talk. If you draw nearer home, it will appear, My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear ; City and country Tvill him entertain With, Welcome, Pilgrim ; yea, they can't refrain From smiling, if my Pilgi-im be but by, Or shows his head in any company. Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, Esteem it much, yea, value it above Things of a greater bidk : yea, with delight. Say, My lark's leg is better than a kite. Young ladies, and yotmg gentlewomen too. Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show. Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts. My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains. As yields them profit double to their pains Of reading ; yea, I think, I may be bold To say, some prize him far above their gold. The verj' children that do walk the street, If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet. Salute him will, will Avish him well, and say, He is the only stripling of the day. They that have never seen him, yet admire What they have heard of him, and much desire To have his company, and hear him tell Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. Yea, some who did not love him at the first, But call'd him fool and noddy, say they must, Now they have seen and heard him, him commend. And to those whom they love they do h i m send. A\Tierefore, my Second Part, thou need'st not be Afraid to show thy head ; none can hurt thee, 201 THE AUTHOE's WAT 0? That wish but -well to him that 'wcnt before, 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, Por young, for old, for stagg'ring, and for stable. OBJECTION III. Eut some there be that say, He laughs too load ; And some do say. His head is in a cloud. Some say. His words and stories are so dark, They know not how, by them, to find his mark. ANSWER. One may, I think, say, Both his laughs and cries, May well be guess'd at by his watery eyes. Some things are of that nature, as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. 'WTien Jacob saw his Rachel Avith the sheep. He did at the same time both kiss and weep. Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head. That doth but show how wisdom 's covered "With its own mantles, and to stir the mind To a search after what it fain would find. Things that seem to be hid in words obscure, Do but the godly mind the more allure To study what those sayings should contam, That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. I also know a dark similitude Will on the fancy more itself intrude. And will stick faster in the heart and head. Than things fi'om similes not borrowed. Wherefore, my book, let no discouragement Hinder thy travels. Behold, thou art sent To friends, not foes ; to friends that will give place To thee, thy pilgrims, and thy words embrace. Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal' d. Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal'd ; What Christian left lock'd up, and went his way, Sweet Christiana opens with he^ key. OBJECTION IV. But some love not the method of your first ; Romance they count it, throw 't away as dust, If I should meet with such, what should I say ? Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay ? ANSWER. My Christiana, if with such thou meet. By all means, in all loving-wise, them greet ; SENDING POETH HIS SECOND PAET. 205 Render them not reviling for revile ; But if they frown, I prithee on them smile ; Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report, Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. Some love no cheese, some love no fish, and some Love not their friends, nor their own house or home Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl, More than they love a cuckoo, or an owl ; Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice, And seek those who to find thee vnil rejoice ; By no means strive, but in humble-wise Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise. Go, then, my little book, and show to all That entertain, and bid thee welcome, shall, What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest, And wish what thou shalt show them may be blest To them for good, may make them choose to be Pilgrims better by far than thee or me. Go, then, I say, teU all men who thou art ; Say, I am Christiana, and my part Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot. Go also, tell them who and what they be, That now do go on pilgrimage with thee ; Say, Here 's my neighbour, Mercy, she is one That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone. Come, see her in her \irgin face, and learn 'Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. Yea, let yoimg damsels learn of her to prize The world which is to come, in any wise. When little tripping maidens follow God, And leave old doting sinners to his rod ; 'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried, Hosanna ! to whom old ones did deride. Next, tell them of old Honest, whom you fotmd With his white hairs, treading the Pilgrim's ground. Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was, How after his good Lord he bare his cross ; Perhaps with some grey head this may prevail With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. • Tell them also, how Master Fearing went On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent In solitariness, with fears and cries ; And how, at last, he won the joyful prize. He was a good man, though much do-vvn in spirit. He is a good man, and doth life inherit. 206 THE AUTHOa's WAT, ETC. Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also, Who, not before, but still behind would go. Show them also, how he had like been slain. And how one Great-heart did his life regain. This man was true of heart, though weak in grace, One might true godliness read in his face. Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt, A man with crutches, but much -without fault ; Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he Did love, and in opinions much agree. And let all know, though weakness was their chancet Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance. Forget not Master Valiant-for-the-truth, That man of courage, though a very youth. TeU every one his spirit was so stout, No man could ever make him face about ; And how Great-heart and he could not forbear, But put do\vn Doubtiag Castle, slay Despair. Overlook not Master Despondency, Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie Under such mantles, as may make them look (With some) as if their God had them forsook. They softly went, but sure, and at the end Found that the Lord of PiLgruns was their friend. "When thou hast told the world of all these things, Then turn about, my book, and touch these strings, "VYhich, if but touch' d, will such music make, They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. These riddles that lie couch' d within thy breast, Freely propound, expound ; and for the rest Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. Now may this little book a blessing be To those who love this little book and me , And may its buyer have no cause to say, His money is but lost or thrown away ; Yea, may this Second PHgrim yield that fruit, As may with each good PUgrim's fancy suit ; And may it persuade some that go astray, To turn their feet and heart to the right way. Is the hearty prayer of The Author, John Buntajj, THE PILGRIM'S PE.OGP.ESS; rS" THE SIMIXIXUDE OF A DEEAil. THE SECOND PART. CouETEOus Companions, SOME time since, to tell you my dream that I liad of Chris- tian the Pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey towards the Celestial Country, was pleasant to me, and profitable to you. I told you then, also, what I saw concerning his wife and chil- dren, and how unwilling they were to go witli him on pilgrimage, insomuch that he was forced to go on his progress without them ; for he durst not run the danger of that destruction which he feared would come by staying with them in the City of Destruction. Wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them and departed." Now it hath so Happened, through the multiplicity of business that I have been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts [from] whence he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make further inquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an account of " The Second Part of this pilgrimage comes nearer to the ordinary experience of the great multitude of Christians than the First. The First shows, as in Christian, Faithful, and Hopeful, the great examples and strong lights of pil- grimage ; it is as if Paul and Luther were passing over the scene. The Second shows a variety of pilgrims, whose stature and experience are more on a level frith onr own. The First is more severe, sublime, inspiring; the Second is more soothing and comforting. The First has deep and awful sliadows mingled with its light, terribly instructive. Tha Second is more continually cheerful, full of good nature and pleasantry, and showing the pilgrimage in lights and shades that are common to weaker Christians. 208 THE piloeim's peoobess. tliem. But having bad some concerns that way of late, I went down again thitherward. Now, having taken up my lodgings in a wood, about a mile oif the place, as I slept I dreamed again.* And as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentleman came by where I lay ; and because he was to go some part of the way that I was travelling, methought I got up and went with him. So as we walked, and as travellers usually do, I was as if we feU into discourse, and our talk happened to be about Christian and his travels; for thus I began with the old man : — Sir, said I, what town is that there below, that lieth on the left hand of our way ? Then said Mr. Sagacity (for that was his name). It is the City of Destruction, a populous place, but possessed with a very iU-conditioned and idle sort of people. I thought that was that city, quoth I ; I went once mj'self through that town, and, therefore, know that this report you give of it is true. Sag. Too true ; T -wish I could speak truth in speaking better of them that dwell therein. Well, Sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well-meaning man ; and so one that takes pleasixre to hear and tell of that which is good. Pray, did you never hear what happened to a man some time ago in this town, whose name was Christian^ that went on pilgrimage up towards the higher regions ? Sag. Hear of him ! Aye, and I also heard of the molesta- tions, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, frights, and fears that he met vtdth and had in his journey ; besides, I must tell you, all our country rings of him. There are but few houses Christians are that havo heard of him and his doings but have when^'^°^'^'^ne • sought after and got the records of his pilgrim- though called gnre • yea, I think I may say that that his fools -while they t> ' .^ ' _ J J are here. hazardous journey has got a many well-wishers to his ways ; for though, when he was here, he was fool in * The First Part was written in Bedford jail; tlie Second " about amile off the place," at the village of Elstow, where Mr. Buny an resided, and where his hons« is still standing, a very humble cottage. THE pil&eim's peogbess. 209 every man's mouth, yet, now he is gone, he is highly com- mended of alL For, it is said, he lives bravely where he is ; yea, many of them that are resolved never to rim his hazards, yet have their mouths water at his gains." They may, quoth I, well think, if they think anything that is true, that he liveth well where he is ; for he now lives at and in the Fountain of Life, and has what he has without labour and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. But, pray, what talk have the people about him ? Sag. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him ; some say that he now walks in white, E-ev. iii. 4 ; vi. 11 ; that he has a chain of gold about his neck ; that he has a crown of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head. Others say that the Shining Ones, that sometimes showed themselves to him in his journey, are become his companions, and that he is as familiar with them in the place where he is, as here one neighbour is with another. Besides, it is confidently affirmed, concerning him, that the King of the place where he is has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at court, Zee. iii. 7 ; and that he every day eateth, Luke xiv. 15, and drinketh, and walketh, and talketh with him ; and receiveth of the smiles and favours of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of that country, will shortly come into these parts, and will know the reason, if they can give any, why his neighbours set so little by him, and had him so much in derision, when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim. Jude 14, 15. For, they say, that now he is so in the aflfections of his Prince, and that his Sovereign i? so much concerned with the indignities that c^^■^^^^^,^•^^^g were cast upon Christian, when he became a wiu^ take chris- pilgrim, that he will look upon all as if done "^'^^^°' « This is quite natural, and very common. The men of this •svorld will canonize those for saints, when dead, whom they stigmatized with the vilest names when living. " The memory of the just is blessed." AU men's mouths water at a pilgrim's gains, even while they are resolved never to run a pUgrim's hazards. O let me die his death ! all nature cries : Then live his life— all nature falters there. 210 THE pilgrim's peogeess. unto himself ; ^ and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had to his Prince that he ventured as he did. Luke x. 16. I dare say, quoth I, I am glad on it ; I am glad for the poor man's sake, for that he now has rest from his labour, Eev. siv. 13 ; and for that he now reapeth the benefit of his tears with joy, Psa. cxxvi, 5, 6 ; and for that he has got beyond the gun- shot of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hate him, I also am glad, for that a rumour of these things ia noised abroad in this country ; who can tell but that it may work some good effect on some that are left behind? But, pray Su-, while it is fresh in my mind, do you hear anything of his wife and children ? Poor hearts ! I wonder in my mind what tlaey do. Sag. Who ! Christiana and her sons ? They are like to do Good tidings of ^^ ^^^1 ^s did Christian himself; for though ^d cMton.""''' *^^y ^^ P^^jed the fool at the first, and would by no means be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them ; so they have packed up, and are also gone after him. Better and better, quoth, I. But what ! wife and children and all ? Sag. It is true ; I can give you an account of the matter, for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole afiair. Then, said I, a man, it seems, may report it for a truth ? Sag. You need not fear to afilrm it ; I mean that they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her foui- boys. And being (we are, as I perceive) going some consider- able way together, I will give you an account of the whole of the matter. This Christiana (for that was her name from the day that First Part, p. 193. ^^^' ^^^^ ^^^ children, betook themselves to a pilgrim's life), after her husband was gone over '' What a thunderbolt is this ! Reader, have you ever spoken harshly to, or persecute!, a child of God— a poor penitent sinner? Hear the word of the Judge of aU the earth—" Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." THE PILffEIll's PEOGEESS. 211 the river, and she could Lear of hiiu no more, her thoughts ■bejzan to work in her mind. Pirst, for that she had lost her husband, and for that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you know, said he to me, nature can do no less but entertain the living with many a heavy cogitation in the remembrance of the loss of loving re- lations. This, therefore, of her husband did cost her many a tear. But this was not all ; for Christiana did also begin to consider with herself, whether her unbecoming behaviour to- wards her husband was not one cause that she -^i^^^ ^^g^ ^^^ saw him no more ; and that in such sort he was ^^^* '^g'^^^y'^'" je]*^? taken away from her. And upon this, came ^^°^^- into her miud, by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and un- godly carriages to her dear friend ; which also clogged her con science, and did load her with guilt. She was, moreover, much broken with calling to remembrance the restless groans, brinish tears, and self-bemoanings of her husband, and how she did harden her heart against all his entreaties, and loving persua- sions, of her and her sons, to go with him ; yea, there was not anvthins: that Christian either said to her or did before her aU the while that his burden did hang on his back, but it retvu-ned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the caul of her heart in sunder. Specially that bitter outcry of his, "What shall I do to be saved?" did ^^* P'^t. p. 40. ring in her ears most dolefully. Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all undone. I have sinned away your father, and he is gone ; he would have had us with him, but I would not go myself. I also have hin- dered you of life.« With that the boys fell all into tears, and cried out to go after their father. ! said Christiana, that it had been but our lot to go with him, then had it fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now ; for though I for- merly foolishly imagined, concerning the troubles of your father, that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with melancholy humours ; yet now it ' Hapi^y is tliat death whicli biings the believer to heaven, and the surviving relatives to Chi-ist ; which opens the gate of glory to one, and the door of con- Tersion to the other. 212 THE pilgeim's peogeess. will not out of my mind, but that they sprang from another cause, to wit, for that the Light of light was given him, Jamea i. 23 — 25 ; by the help of which, as I perceived, he has escaped the snares of death. Then they all wept again, and cried out, " O woe worth the day! "/ The next night Christiana had a dream ; and, behold, she ciiiistiana's ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^ broad parchment was opened before di-eam. j^gr, in which were recorded the sum of her ways, Luke xviii. 13 ; and the times, as she thought, looked very black upon her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, " liord, have mercy upon me a sinner ! " and the little children heard her. After this she thought she saw two very ill-favoured ones „ , ^, . ^,. standing by her bed-side, and saying, 'What Hark this, this . . J b' ^ is the quintessence shall we do with this woman ? for she cries out for mercy waking and sleeping ; if she be suf- fered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. "Wherefore, we must, by one way or other, seek to take her oif from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter, else all the world cannot help it but she will become a pilgrim. Now she awoke in a great sweat, also a trembling was upon her ; but after a while she fell to sleeping again. And then Help against she thought shc saw Christian her husband in a discouragement, pj^j^^g ^f jjijgg^ among many immortals, with a harp in his hand, standing and playing upon it before one that sat on a throne, with a rainbow about his head. She saw also as if he bowed his head, with his face to the paved work that Avas under the Prince's feet, saying, I heartily thank my Lord and Eing, for bringing of me into this place. Then shouted a / " One of God's ends in instituting marriage is, that, under a figure, Clirist and his church should be set forth. There is a sweet scent wrapped up in that relation. Be such a husband to thy believing wife, that she may say, God hath given to me a husband that preacheth Christ's carriage to the church every day. — If thy wife be unbelieving, thou hast a duty to perform under a double obligation ; for she is liable every moment to eternal ruin. Wives should be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient. Take heed of an idling, talking, wrangling tongue. I do not intend that women should be slaves by this subjection : ' Let every man love his wife as himself, and the wife see that she reverence her hus- band.' Eph. V. 33. Abigail would not speak a word to her churlish husband until Ms wine was gone out of him." [19] THE PILGBIil'S PEOGEESS. 213 company of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps ; but no man living could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions.^ Next morning, when she was tip, had prayed to Grod, and talked with her children a while, one knocked hard at the door, to whom she spake out, saying, If thou comest in God's name, come in. So he said. Amen, and opened the door, and saluted her with " Peace be to this house." The which, when he had done, he said, Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I am come ? Then she blushed and trembled, also her heart convictions se- beean to wax warm with desires to know conded with fresh. ° 111 tidings of God s whence he came, and what was his errand to her. readiness to par- So he said unto her. My name is Secret ; * I dwell with those that are high. It is talked of, where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither ; also, there is a report, that thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to tell thee, that he is a God ready to forgive, and that he taketh delight to multiply to pardon oflfences. He also would have thee know, that he inviteth thee to come into his presence, to his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. There is Christian thy husband (that was), with legions more, his companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister life to beholders ; and they will all be glad when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's thresh- old. Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bowing her head to the ground, this "Visitor proceeded, and said, s Dreams are sometimes of use to warn and encourage a Christian, and seem to be " from God ;" but great caution is necessarj', lest they mislead us, as they do weak persons. They must never be depended on as the ground of hope, or the test of our state ; nothing must be put in the place of the Word of God. * " The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," Ps. cxi. 10; and " the 6ECRET of the Lord is with them that fear him." Ps. xxv. 14. The Comforter never convinces the soul of sin, but he also revives and comforts the heart with glad tidings of free and full pardon of sin, through the blood of the Lamb. 234- THE pilgeim's peogeess. Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, which I have brought from thy husband's King. So she took it, and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume, Cant. i. 3 ; also it was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter was, That the King would have her do as did Christian her husband; for that was the way to come to his city, and to Chrisuana quite ^^^ell in his presence with joy for ever. At this overcome. ^]jq good woman was quite overcome ; so she cried out to her visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we also may go and worship this King ? Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before the FurtUer instruc- sweet. Thou must through troubles, as did tion to Christiana, j^g ^-^^^^ ^^^^ hei'oYe thee, enter this Celestial City. "Wherefore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy hus- band. Gro to the wicket-gate yonder, over the plain, for that stands in the head of the way up which thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise that thou put this letter in thy bosom ; that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy children, until you have got it by rote of heart,' for it is one of thy songs that thou must sing while thou art in tliis house of thy pilgrimage, Psa. cxis. 54 ; also this thou must de- liver in at the further gate^^ Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as he told me this story, did himself seem to be greatly aifected there- with. He, moreover, proceeded and said. So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus to address herself unto them : My sons, I have, as you may perceive, Christiana prays . n i , i , . . , well for her jour- been 01 late imder much exercise in my soul, ^^^' about the death of your father ; not for that I * " Eote of heart ;" "rote" is to commit to memory, so as to b* able to repeat, fluently, as o wheel runs round, but •without attaching any idea or sense to the words; " rote of heart" is to do this with a full understanding of the meaning. J " But bring thou ivith thee a certificate, To show thou seest thyself most desolate ; Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd. To show also, that here (by Christ) thou wouldst he h taled. ***** And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways. And wouldst in holiness spend aU thy days." [40] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 215 doubt at all of liis happiness, for I am satisfied now tliat he is well. I liaye been also much affected with the thoughts of mine own state and yours, which I yerily believe is by nature miserable. My carriages, also, to your father in his distress, is a great load to my conscience ; for I hardened both my own heart and yours against him, and refused to go with him on pilgrimage.* The thoughts of these things would now kill me outright, but that for a dream which J. had last night, and but for the encouragement that this stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up and begone to the gate '1/hat leads to the Celestial Country, that we may see your father, and be with him and his companions in peace, according to the laws of that land. Then did her childi'en burst out into tears for joy, that the heart of their mother was so inclined. So their visitor bade them farewell ; and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the women, that were Christiana's neighbours, came up to her house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said as before. If you come in God's name, come in. At this ™ . .. , •' ' Cnristiaua s new the women were stunned; for this kind of Ian- language stuns her , . old neighbours. guage they used not to hear, or to perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana.' Yet they came in : but, behold, they found the good woman arpreparing to be gone from her house. So they began and said, JS'eighbour, pray what is your mean- ing by this ? * " I observe a vile spirit amongst some cUildren, wlio overlook, or have slighting or scornful thoughts of their parents. Such an one hath got just the heart of a dog or a beast, that iviU. bite those that begot them. But my father is poor, and I am rich, and it will be a hindrance to me to respect him. I teU thee, thou arguest like an atheist and a beast, and standest full flat against the Son of God. Mar. vii. 9—13. Must a little of the glory of the butterfly make thee not ionouT thy father and mother ? Little dost thou know how many prayers, sighs, and tears have been wrung from their hearts on thine account." [19] ' Reader, stop and examine. Did ever any of your carnal acquaintance take knowledge of a difi'erence of your language and conduct? [Does it stun them?! If not, what reason have you to think yourself a pilgrim ? 216 ' THE PILGEIM's rKOORESS. Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, I am preparing for a journey. (This Timorous was daughter to him that met Chris- "^^ ^ ^' ' tian upon the Hill Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.) Tim. Eor what journey, I pray you ? Cheis. Even to go after my good husband. And with that she fell a-weeping. Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour ; pray, for your poor Timorous comes children's sakes, do not so unwomanly cast away to visit Christiana yourself, •with Mercy, oueoi J herneighbours. Cheist. Nay, my children shall go with me, not one of them is willing to stay behind. Tim. I wonder, in my very heart, what, or who has brought you into this mind. Cheis. Oh! neighbour, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that you would go with me. Tim. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go, nobody knows where ? Cheis. Then Christiana replied, I have been sorely afflicted since my husband's departure from me; but especially since he went over the river. But that which troubleth me most, is my churlish carriages to him, when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a- dreamiug last night that I saw him. Oh that my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of the country ; he sits and eats with him at his table ; he is become a companion of immortals, 1 Cor. v. 1 — 4 ; and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me but as a dunghill. The Prince of the place has also sent for me, with promise of entertainment if I shall come to him ; his messenger was here even now, and has brought me a letter, which invites me to come. AnQ with that she plucked out her letter, and read it, and said to them, "What now will ye say to this ? Tim. Oh the madness that has possessed thee and thy hua- THE pilgeim's peogeess. 217 band, to run yourselves upon sucli difficulties ! Tou have heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet with, even, in a manner, at the first step that he took on his way, as our neighbour Obstinate can yet testif}^, for he ^^'' i"art.p.42-46. went along with him ; yea, and Pliable too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. "We also heard, over and above, bow he met with the lions, ApoUyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger that he met with at Vanity Pair to be forgotten by thee ; for The reasonings of if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what ^^^ ^esh. canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Consider, also, that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself; yet, for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep thou at home."* But Christiana said unto her. Tempt me not, my neighbour. I have now a price put into my hand to get gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest size, if I should have no heart to strike in with the opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles that I am like to meet with in the way, they are so far off from being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in the right, " The bitter must come before the ,, , A pertinent re- sweet, and that also will make the sweet the piy to fleshly rea- sweeter. "Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you to be gone, and not disquiet me further. Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fellow. Come, neighbour, Mercy, let us leave her in her o-ftii hands, since she scorns our counsel and company. But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neighbour, and that for a two-fold reason. First, her bowels yearned Mercy's bowels over Christiana. So she said within herself. If tuSa! ^""^^ •" " They attribute the change to melancholy — to sitting alone — to overmuch readipg — to going to too many sermons — to too much studying anil musing on what they hear. They conclude that it is for want of merry company — for want of physic ; and they advise them to leave off reading, going to sermons, the com- pany of sober people, and to be merry, to go agossiping. But, poor ignorant sinner, let me deal with thee. It seems that thou hast turned counsellor for Batan," [26J O 218 THE pilgeim's peogeess. my neiglibour will needs be gone, I will go a little way with her and help her. Secondly, her bowels yearned over her own soul, for what Christiana had said had taken some hold upon her mind. Wherefore she said within herself again, I will yet have more talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself with my heart shall also go with her. Wherefore Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbour Timorous. Meect. Neighbour, I did, indeed, come with you to see Timorous for- Christiana this morning ; and since she is, as Mercy cktves^to jou ^cc, a-takiug of her last farewell of her ^°^- country, I think to walk, this sun-shine morn- ing, a little way with her, to help her on the way. But she told her not of the second reason, but kept that to herself. Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fooling too, but take heed in time, and be wise. While we are out of danger we are out ; but when we are in, we are in. So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to her iourney. But when Timorous was got home to Timorous ac- '' •' ° quaiuts her friends her housc, she scuds for soms of her neighbours, what the good •,-i.ir -r>j» -hit t • ^ -»r Christiana intends to Avit, Mrs. Bat s-oyes, Mrs. Inconsidcrate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. So when they were come to her house, she falls to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended journey. And thus she began her tale." Tim. Neighbours, having had little to do this morning, I went to give Christiana a visit ; and when I came afc the door? I knocked, as you know it is our custom. And she answered, If you come in God's name, come in. So in I went, thinking all was well. But when I came in, I found her preparing her- self to depart the town, she and also her children. So I asked her what was her meaning by that. And she told me, in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her hus- band. She told me also a dream that she had, and how the Eing of the country where her husband was, had sent sent her an inviting letter to come thither. " " The world will seek to keep thee out of heaven with mocks, flouts, taunts, threats, jails, gibbets, halters, burnings, and a thousand deaths; therefore strivs to enter in." [22] THE PLLGEIil's PBOGEESS. 2.19 Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And what ! do -^^^ ^^0^. you think she wiU go ? ^°t^=- Tim. Aye, go she will, whatever come on't ; and methinks 1 know it by this ; for that which was my great argument to persuade her to stay at home (to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one great ai'gument with her to put her forward on her journey. For she told me in so many words, "The bitter goes before the sweet," Tea, and foras- much as it so doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter. Mes. Bat's-etes. Oh, this blind and foolish woman! said she'; will she not take warning by her bus- -j^^^^ -B^i;^.^^^e_ band's afflictions ? Por my part, I see, if he was here again, he would rest him content in a whole skin, and never run so many hazards for nothing. Mes. Inconsideeate also replied, saying, Away with such fantastical fools from the town ! A good rid- j^irs. incon- dance, for my part, I say, of her. Should she siderate. stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could live quietly by her? for she will either be dumpish or unneigh- bourly, or talk of such matters as no wise body can abide; wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for her departure. Let her go, and let better come in her room. It was never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it. Then Mes. LiGHT-iri>T) added as foUoweth : — Come, put this kind of talk away. I was yesterday at ^^_^ ught- Madame Wanton's, where we were as merry as mind. the maids. For who do you think should be Madam Wanton, there, but I and Mrs. Love-the-Flesh, and three f^Vavf b^el "oo or four more, with Mr. Lechery, Mrs. Filth, ^^^^^°^ast^'^ and some others. So there we had music and ^. ^^ . ,»- Pu-st Part, p. lOa. dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an admirably weU-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. By this time, Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with her. So as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to discourse. And, Mercy, said Chris- tiana, I take this as an unexpected favour, that thou Shouldst set foot out of doors with me, to J,lercy and good accompany me a little in my way. istiaua. 220 THE pilgeim's pkogeess, Meecy. Then said young Mercy (for she was but young). Mercy inclines If ^ thought it WOuld be to purpose to gO to go- with you, I would never go near the town any more. Chris. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot with me ; I well know what will be the end of our h^e"l'er^M^gii- pilgrimage. My husband is where he would bour with her. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ Spanish mines JSTor shalt thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation.^ The King who hath sent for me and my children is one that delighteth in mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant ; yet we will have all things in common betwiit thee and me ; only, go along with me. Meect. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall ^ 1. r be entertained? Had I this hope but from Mercy doubts of , ,, t ii i j.- i j, n acceptance. one that can tell, i would make no stick at all, but would go, being helped by him that can help, though the way was never so tedious. Cheis. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do. * Gro with me to the wicket-gate, and there lure^"he™o the I will further inquire for thee ; and if there thou CMst,^and\rlf- ^halt uot meet with encouragement, I will be miseth there to couteut that thou shalt return to thy place. I inquu-e for her. n • i i • i i also will pay thee for thy kmdness which thou showest to me and my children, in thy accompanying us in our way, as thou dost. Meect. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall J, follow; and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of Heaven shall have his heart upon me.P " Many are gradually and gently brouglit to embrace the gospel, and these are sometimes discouraged lest they have never been truly awakened. Eecollect that the Lord delighteth in mercy; that Christ will in no wise cast out any that come to him ; and that they who trust in the mercy of God, solely through the redemption of his Son, shall assuredly be saved. P Mercy clearly discovers a work of grace on her heart. She was anxious about her acceptance at last; she began to pray; she threw herself on the mere mercy of Christ's heart; and proved "the bowels of a pilgrim," by lamenting the sad condition of her carnal relations. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 221 Christiana then was glad at her heart, not only that she had a comoanion, but also for that she had prevailed ^ . ,. . . \ . . , p 11 • 1 • Cnnstiana glad "With this poor maid to fall m love with her own of Mercy's com- salvation. So they went on together, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, "Wherefore weepeth. my sister so ? Meect. Alas ! said she, who can but lament, that shall but rightly consider, what a state and condition my . , . . *' Mercy gneves poor relations are in that yet remain in our for her carnal re- sinful town ? and that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because they have no instructor, nor any to teU them what is to come. Cheis. Bowels becometh pilgrims; and thou dost for thy friends as my good Christian did for me when he left me ; he mourned for that 1 would not heed nor regard christian's pray- him ; but his Lord and ours did gather up his ^^ ^"^g® reiaUons^ tears, and put them into his bottle ; and now ^f^^r he was dead. both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, these tears of thine will not be lost ; for the truth hath said, that " They that sow in tears shall reap in joy," in singing. And "he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." Psa. exxvi. 5, 6.? Then said Mercy — Let the Most Blessed be in)' guide, If 't be his blessed will ; Unto his gate, into his fold, Up to his holy hiU. ■=, And let him never suffer me To swerve or turn aside From his free grace, and holy ways, Whate'er shall me betide. "i " Now Mr. Desires, when he saw that he must go on this errand, besought Mr. Wet-eyes should go with him to petition the Prince. This Mr. Wet-eyes was a poor man, a man of a broken spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition Then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on his face to the ground, and said, O my Lord, I see dirt in my own tears, and filthiness at the bottom of my prayers; but, I pray thee, mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul." [27] 222 THE PILGEIM's PROGEESa. And let him gather them of mine, That I have left hehind ; Lord, make them pray they may be tliine, With all their heart and mind.'' JN'ow my old friend proceeded and said : But wlien Cliristiana ^ ^ ,. came up to the Slou";h of Despond, she be^an First Part p. 46. ^ " . . to be at a stand ; for, said she, this is the place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with mud. She perceived, also, that notwithstanding the command Their own car- of the King to make this place for pilgrims Sistead'^^oT^'the goo^lj J^t it was rather worse than formerly. Word of Life. So I asked if that was true. Tes, said the old gentleman, too true ; for that many there be that pretend to be the King's labourers, and that say they are for mending the King's highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar instead of mending. Here Christiana, therefore, Mercy the bold- ^'^^^^ ^^^ ^°J^' ^'"^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^"^^ 5 ^^^^ Said est at the Slough Mercy, Come, let us venture, only let us be wary. Then they looked well to the steps, and made a shift to get staggeringly over.'f Tet Christiana had like to have been in, and that not once nor twice. Now they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said unto them, " Blessed is she that believed : for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord." Luke i. 45. Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Christiana, Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the wicket-gate as you, I think no Slough of Despond would dis- courage me. "Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I know mine ; and, good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we come at our journey's end. ' There never/were two more attractive beings drawn than Christiana aud Mercy ; each of them reflecting the light of heaven in an original and lovely variety. ' " Looked well to the steps;" that is, " the pi-omises," as Bunyan explains ia the margin of Part First. " Straggling to be rid of our burden, it only sinks us deeper in the mire, if we do not rest by faith upon the promises, and so come indeed to Christ." THE PILGEIM's PEOGE.ESS. 223 For can it be imagined, that the people that design to attain Buch excellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as we are ; but that we shall meet with what fears and scares, with what troubles and afflictions they can possibly assault us with, that hate us ? And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. "Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up to the gate ; to which, when they were come they betook themselves to a -p^g^^^j. gj^o^^i short debate about how they must manage their be made with con- •' 1 J 1 • 1 sideration and fear, calling at the gate, and what should be said to as weu as in faith him that did open to them. So it was concluded, ^^ °^ ' since Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she should speak to him that did open, for the rest. So Christiana began to knock ; and, p. . p . as her poor husband did, she knocked, and knocked again. But, instead of any that answered, they all thought that they heard as if a dog came bark- ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ing upon them ; a dog, and a great one too, and devil, an enemy this made the women and children afraid : nor durst they, for a while, to knock any more, for fear the mastifi should fly upon them. JSTow, therefore, they ctristiana and were greatly tumbled up and down in their IZ^^.Z^^^^Z minds, and knew not what to do ; knock they prayer. durst not, for fear of the dog ; go back they durst not, for fear the Keeper of that gate should espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them ; at last they thought of knocking again, and knocked more vehemently than they did at the first. Then said the Keeper of the gate, Who is there ? So the dog left off to bark, and he opened unto them.' Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, Let not our Lord be offended with his handmaidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate. Then said the Keeper, Whence come ye, and what is that you would have ? ' No sooner does a poor sinner open his lips in prayer to Jesus, but tlie devil will bark at him, and bj' all means try to terrify and discourage him. Do you find this ? What is our remedy? " Resist the devil, and he mil flee from yon. Draw nigh to God, and he -will draw nigh to you." Jas. iv. 7, 8. 224 THE PILGEIm's PE0GEES8. Christiana answered, "We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon the same errand as he ; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted by this gate into the way that leads to the Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in the next place, that I am Christiana, once the wife of Chris- tian, that now is gotten above." With that the Keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, What, is she become now a pilgrim, that, but a while ago, abhorred that life ? Then she bowed her head, and said, Yes, and so are these my sweet babes also. Then he took her by the hand, and let her in, and said also, How Christiana " buffer the little children to come unto me ; " is entertained at and with that he shut up the gate. This done, tne gate. i. n j j: o > he called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana with shouting and sound of trumpet for joy. So he obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes. Luke xv. 7. Now, all this while poor Mercy did stand without, trembling and crying, for fear that she was rejected. But when Chris- tiana had gotten admittance for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy. Cheis. And she said, My Lord, I have a companion of Christiana's ^^^^ *^^^ stands yet without, that is come Friend^Merc^^'^ hither upou the same account as myself; one that is much dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without sending for; whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come. Now, Mercy began to be very impatient, for each minute was as long to her as an hour ; wherefore she prevented Chria- " " Think much of them that have gone hefore ; how safe they are in the bosom of Jesus. Would they be here again for a thousand worlds ? Sometimes when my base heart hath been inclining to this world, and to loiter in my journey to- wards heaven, the very consideration of the glorious saints and angels— what they enjoy, what low thoughts they have of the things of this world, how they would befool me if they did but know that my heart was drawing back — this hath made me rush forward, and disdain those beggarly things ; and say tq my soul, Come, soul, let us not be weary ; let us see what heaven is ; let us venture all for it. It will quit the cost. Reader, what sayest thou to this ? Art thou resolved to follow me ? Nay, resolve to get before me if thou canst." [57] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 225 tiana from a fuller interceding for her, by ^ ^ , . , , , 1 J ^^ delays make knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked the hungering soul then so loud, that she made Christiana to start. ^ ^"^'^ '^^' Then said the Keeper of the gate, "Who is there ? and said Christiana, It is my friend. So he opened the gate, and looked out, but Mercy was fallen dovra without, in a swoon, for she faiated, and „.,, Ill Til Mercy famts. was afraid that no gate would be opened to her. Then he took her by the hand, and said. Damsel, I bid thee arise. Oh, Sir, said she, I am faint ; there is scarce life left in me. But he answered. That one once said, " "When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord ; and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple." Jonah ii. 7. Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come." Meect. I am come for that unto which I was never invited, as my friend Christiana was. Hers was from The cause of her the King, and mine was but from her. Where- fai^tiug. fore I fear I presume. Keep. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place ? Meect. Tes ; and, as my Lord sees, I am come. And, if there is any grace or forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that I, thy poor handmaid, may be partaker thereof. Then he took her again by the hand, and led her gently in, and said, I pray for all them that believe on me, jj^^j.^,^ by what means soever they come unto me. Then said he to those that stood by, Patch something, and give it to Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting. So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh ; and a while after, she was revived." » " Being made to nnderstand wbat great sinners the Lord hatli had mercy npon, and how large his promises were still to sinners, this made me, through the assistance of the Holy Spirit, to cleave to him, to hang upon him, and yet to cry, though as yet there was no answer. The Lord help all his poor, tempted, afflicted people to do the like." • The prisoners taken in the Holy War were affected like Mercy. " Why did you not cry to me hefore ? said the Prince, yet I will answer you so as wiU he for my glory, At this Mr. Wet-eyes gave a great sigh, and death seemed to set oa 226 THE PILGEIM's PROaUESS. And now was Christiana and lier boys, and Mercy, received of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto him, "We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and further informa- tion what we must do. I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed ; by word, in the promise of forgiveness ; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, Ca. i. 2 ; and the other as it shall be revealed. John sx. 20. l^ow, I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they were greatly gladded. He also had them up to the top of the gate, and showed them by what deed Christ crucified they wers saved ; and told them withal. That seen afar oflf. ^j^^^ sight they would havo again, as they went along in the way, to their comfort. So he left them a while in a summer parlour below, where Talk between the they entered into talk by themselves ; and thus Christians. Christiana began : O Lord ! how glad am I that we are got in hither. Meect. So you well may ; but I of all have cause to leap tor joy. Cheis. I thought one time, as I stood at the gate (because I had knocked, and none did answer) that all our labour had been lost, especially when that ugly cur made > such a heavy barking against us. Meect. But my worse fear was after I saw that you was taken into his favour, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, " Two women shall be grind- ing together, the one shall be taken and the other left."* Matt, xxiv. 41. I had much ado to forbear crying out, Undone ! undone ! And afraid I was to knock any more ; but when I looked up their eye-brows ; they covered their faces, and threw themselves down before him. Then the Prince bid them stand upon their feet, and said, I liave power to forgive, and I do forgive. Moreover, he stripped the prisoners of their mourning weeds, and gave them beauty for ashes." [27] ' Many hellish darts are tipped by Apollyon's malignant ingenuity with words of Scripture, so that the Scriptures appear to stand against the trembling Christian. THE pilgeim's pkogeess. 227 to what was written over the gate, I took courage. x _ r- , - _ , J? irst iroxt, J . 00. I also thought that I must either knock again, or die ; so I knocked, but I cannot tell how, for my spirit now struggled betwixt life and death. Chkis. Can you not tell how you knocked ? I am sure your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound Christiana thinks of them made me start; I thought I never her companion ° prays better than heard such knocking in all my nfe ; I thought si^e. you would have come in by violent hands, or have taken the kingdom by storm. Matt. li. 12. IIeect. Alas ! to be in my case, who that so was could but have done so ? Tou saw that the door was shut upon me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, that would not have knocked with all their might ? But, pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness ? Was he not angry with me ? Cheis. "When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a wonderftd, innocent smile ; I believe what you ^ . , , . -n 1 f 1 1 1 Clinst pleased did pleased him well enough, ior he showed no tvith loud and , , , , -n J T 1 • T 1. restless praises. Sign to the contrary. But 1 marvel m my heart whv he keeps such a dog: had I known that ifthesoui at first Till 1 111 j_ ^^'^ know all it before, I fear I should not have had heart should meet with 1,1 ^ M> • j_T • in its journey to enough to have ventured myselt m this manner, heaven, it would But now we are in, we are in ; and I am glad out. ^ with all my heart.y Meect. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard ; I hope he will not take it amiss. Aye, do, said the children, and persuade him to hang him ; for we are afraid he will bite us when we go ^he children are hence. afraid of the dog. So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before him, and worshipped, and said, V " Strive to enter in ; a -whole heaven and eternal life is wrapped np in this little word in. Strive ; this calls for the mind and heart. Many professors make their striving to stand rather in an cutcry of words, than in a heai-ty labour against the lusts and love of the world, and their own corruptions. But this kind of striving is but a beating the aii-, and tliis will come to nothing at last." [22] 228 THE PILOEIm's PB0QEE8S. Let my Lord accept of the sacrifice of praise which. I now offer uuto him with the calves of my lips. So he said unto her, " Peace be to thee, stand up." But slie continued upon her face, and said, "Eighteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with tliee : yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments." Jer. xii. 1. Wherefore dost thou keep so cruel 3Iercy expostu- ^ ^^^ "1 ^^7 J'-^rd, at the sight of which SUch ixtes about the womcn and childr °^' thy gate for fear. 3Iercy expostu- ° i i ■ ' lates about the womcn and children as we are ready to fly from He answered and said, That dog has another owner, he also is kept close in another man's ground, only my pil- grims hear his barking ; he belongs to the castle First Part, p. 56. """^lich you 866 there at a distance, but can come up to the walls of this place. He has frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him doth not keep him of any goodwill to me or mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I loved ; but I take A check to the ^^ ^* present patiently. I also give my pilgrims T^fms*'''^ °^ *^^ timely help, so they are not delivered up to his power, to do to them what his doggish nature would prompt him to. But what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much beforehand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door will, rather than they wiU lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, bark- ing, and biting too, of a dog ; and shall a dog — a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims — keep any from coming to me ? I deliver them from the lions their darling from the power of the dog.* Christians, when Meecy. Then Said Morcy, I confess my ^ilsceK^'wIs- ignorance; I spake what I understood not; I oom of their Lord, acknowledge that thou dost all things well. * Thus the dog of hell may he of service, not only in keeping the sheep clone together, but in making them keep close to their Shepherd. THE PILGEIll's PROOEESS. 229 Cheis. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of his steps, accordine 1 1111, -,1 1 1 1 , ■, !. ° First Part, p. 58. as he had dealt with her husband before. So I saw in my dream, that they walked on in their way, and had the weather very comfortable to them. Then Christiana began to sing, saying, Bless'd be the day that I began A pilgrim for to be ; And blessed also be that man That thereto moved me. 'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began To seek to live for ever: But now I run fast as I can ; 'Tis better late than never. Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, Are turned, as we see, That our beginning, as one saith, Shows what our end will be. Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up which Christiana and her companions were to go, a garden, and that garden belonged to him whose was that barking dog of whom mention was made before. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall ; and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, as boys are apt to do, being pleased with the trees, and with the fruit that The chUdren eat did hang thereon, did plash'' them, and began fmit. ^ ^"lemya to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on. "Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for that fruit is none of ours ; but she did not know that they did belong to the enemy ; I will warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from " " Plash." To Plash, is to cut hedges or trees. The boys did plash or hai a cut at the ti-eos, to knock the fruit off. 230 THE PILGMM's mOGEBSS. Two ill-favoured the place that let them into the way, they espied cues. ^^^.y ^,gj.y ill-favoured ones coming down apace to meet them. "With that, Christiana and Mercy, her friend, covered themselves with their veils, and so kept on their jour- ney ; the children also went on before ; so that at last they met together. Then they that came down to meet them, came just They assault ^P ^'^ ^^^ women, as if they would embrace christiaua. them ; but Christiana said. Stand back, or go peaceably by, as you should. Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana's words, but began to lay hands upon them. At that Christiana, waxing very Btruggie^^ ^ith wroth, spurncd at them with her feet. Mercy '^'"' also as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them. Stand back, and begone ; for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends. Ill-favoiteed. Then said one of the two of the men, "We make no assault upon you for money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one small request, which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever. Cheis. Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again. We will neither hear, nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. "We are in haste, cannot stay ; our business is a business of life and death. So, again, she and her companions made a fresh essay to go past them ; but they letted them in their way. Ill-fay. And they said, "We intend no hurt to your lives ; it is another thing we would have. Cheis. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and soul, for I know it is for that you are come ; but She cries out. -n t ^i ji j, xi ly we will die rather upon the spot, than suner our- se"ves to be brought into such snares !is shall hazard our well- being hereafter. And with that they both shrieked out, and cried Murder! murder! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women. Deut, xxii. 23 — 27. But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They, therefore, cried out again . THE piloeim's peogbess. 23X Now, they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at which they came, their voice was heard from where they were, thither ; wherefore some of the house out when we are came out, and knowing that it was Christiana's ^^^^'^*^® • tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great scuffle, the children also stood crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call out to the ruffians, „, „ ,. -j-r-n . . The Reliever saying, "Wliat is that thing that you do ? "Would comes. you make my Lord's people to transgress ? He The m ones fly to also attempted to take them, but they did make their escape over the wall into the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged ; so the dog became their pro- tector. This Eeliever then came up to the women, and asked them how they did. So they answered, "W"e thank thy Prince^ pretty well ; only we have been somewhat affrighted ; we thank thee also, for that thou camest in to our help, for otherwise we had been overcome. Eelievee. So after a few more words, this Eeliever said as followeth: I marvelled much when you were The ReUever talks entertained at the gate above, being [as] ye 1° tirewomen, knew, that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord there for a conductor ; then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers, for he would have granted you one. Chris. Alas! said Christiana, we were so taken with our present blessing, that dangers to come were for- gotten by us ; besides, who could have thought, ^ that so near the King's palace, there should have lurked such naughty ones ? Indeed, it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one ; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along Avith us ! Eel. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest, by so doing, they become of little we lose for want esteem ; but when the want of a thing is felt, "^ asking for. it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that esti- mate that properly is its due, and so, consequently, will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you 232 THE pilquim's progeess. ■would not neither so have bewailed that oversight of yours, in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all thinga work for good, and tend to make you wary. Cheis. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask one ? E.EL. Tour confession of your folly I will present him with. To go back again you need not ; for in all places where you shall come, you will find no want at all ; for in every of my Lord's lodgings which he has prepared for the reception of his pil- grims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, " He will be inquired of by them, to do it for them." Ezek. xxxvi. 37. And it is a poor thing that is not worth asking for. "When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went on their way. Meect. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here ! I The mistake of ™ade account we had now been past all danger, Mercy. ^j^^ ^]^^^ ^g should uovor SCO sorrow more. Cheis. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my fault Christiana's guilt. . '' ^ < i- -i j. t j.1, • j IS SO much the greater, tor that i saw this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it where provision might have been had. I am therefore much to be blamed. Meecy. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle. Cheis. "Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this ; for, methought I saw two men, as like these as ever the world they could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words. They Christiana's Said (it was when I was in my troubles). What dream repeated. gj^^^^^ -^q ^q ^[^}^ ^l^ig -^vomau ? for sho CrieS Ctut, waking and sleeping, for forgiveness. If she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her, as we have lost her husband. This, you know, might have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had. Meect. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an THE pilgeim's peogeess. 233 occasion ministered unto us, to behold our own imperfections ; so oar Lord has taken occasion g"od use of theii thereby to make manifest the riches of his grace ; " ^' for he, as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we of his mere good pleasure. Thus, now when tliey had talked away a little more time, they drew nigh to a house which stood in the way, which house was built for the relief of pilgrims ; as you will find more fully related in the First Part of these Eecords of the Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on towards the house (the House of the Interpreter), and when they came to the „ „, ^ •' Talk m the Inter- door, they heard a great talk m the house. They preter's house ., ,, , ,, ,, ,7 about Christiana's then gave ear, and heard, as they thought, going ou pilgrim- Christiana mentioned by name. For you must ^^®" know that there went along, even before her, a talk of her and her children's going on pilgrimage. And this thing was the more pleasing to them, because they had heard that she was Christian's wife, that woman who was sometime ago so unwill- ing to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, wlio, they little thought, stood at the door. At last „, , •' ° ' She knocks at Christiana knocked, as she had done at the gate the door. before. 'Now, when she had knocked, there „, ' ' The door is came to the door a young damsel, named Inno- opened to them by " , , Inuoccnt, cent, and opened the door and looked, and behold two women were there. Damsel. Then said the damsel to them, "With whom would you speak in this place ? Cheis. Christiana answered, "We understand that this is a prinleged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such ; wherefore we pray that we may be par- takers of that for which we at this time are come ; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loath to-night to go any further. Damsel. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord within ? Cheis. My name is Christiana ; I was the wife of tliat pil- P 234 THE pilgeim's peogeess. grim that some years ago did travel this way, and these be liia foui' children. This maiden also is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too. Innocent. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name), and said to those within. Can you think who is at the door ? Jo in the house ^^^^^ ^^ Christiana and her children, and her of the Interpreter companion, all Waiting for entertainment here. turuod pilgrim. Then they leaped for joy, and went and told their master. So he came to the door, and looking npon her he said. Art thou that Christiana whom Christian, the good man, left behind him, when he betook himself to a pilgrim's life? Cheis. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted ^s to slight my husband's troubles, and that left him to go on in his journey alone, and these are his four children ; but now I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this. Intee. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the man that said to his son, " Go, work to-day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not : but afterward he repented and went." Matt. xxi. 29. CuEis. Then said Christiana, So be it, Amen. God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last of him in peace, without spot, and blameless ! Intee. Eut why standest thou thus at the door ? Come in, thou daughter of Abraham. We were talking of thee but now, for tidings have come to us before, how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in ; come, maiden, come in. So he had them all into the house.* So, when they were within, they were bidden sit down and rest them ; the which when they. had done, those that attended upon the pilgrims in the house, came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and another smiled, and they all smiled, for joy that Christiana was become a pilgrim. They also looked * Humlile confession and serious consecration of heart, are sacrifices accept- able, well-pleasing to God; and such simple-hearted pilgrims are received by the church with a hearty welcome. " The Spirit and the hride say, Come; and let him that heareth say. Come." The Interpreter shows the Pilgrims llie man wiili the muck-rake.— P. 235. THE PILGRm S PH0GEES3. 235 upon the boys. They stroked tliem over the faces witli the hand, in token of their kind reception of them, qh saints "-lad They also carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid *° ^^^ V,^^- ^i"?,^ •' _ . ones walk in Gods all welcome into their Master's house. ■^'ays. After a "while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them into his significant rooms, and showed them what Christian, Christiana's husband, had Rooms. seen some time before. Here, therefore, they First Part. pp. saw the man in the cage, the man and his dream, ~' the man that cut his way through his enemies, and the picture of the biggest of them all, together with the rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian. This done, and after these things had been somewhat digested by Christiana and her company, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them first into a room where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a ™ .^, •' ^ ine man 'witu muck-rake in his hand. There stood also one tha muck-rako 1 • 1 • 1 ■ 1 1 expoimded. over his head, with a celestial crown m his hand, and proffered him that crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither look up, nor regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor." Then said Christiana, I persuade myself that I know some- what the meaning of this ; for this is a figure of a man of this world, is it not, good Sir ? Inter. Thou hast said the right, said he, and his muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And wliereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to what He says that calls to him from above with the celestial crown in his hand, it is to show that heaven is but aa a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only things substantial. Now, whereas it was also showed thee, that the man could look no way but downwards, it is to let thee know « The emblematical instimetion at the Interpreter's house, in the former part, was so important and comprehensive, that we are astoniihed at the striking addi tions here adduced. The first emblem is very plain ; and so apposite that it is wonderful any per.son should read it without lifting up a prayer to the Lord, and saying, •• Oh, deliver me from this muck-rake!" Awful thought! Straws, and Bticks, and dust, preferred to Christ and salvation I " If angels weep, it is at such a sight !" 23G THE pilgrim's peoguess. that earthly things, when they are with power upou men'a minds, quite carry their hearts away from God. Chris. Then said Christiana, Oh, deliver me Cliristiana's i tj prayer against trom thlS mUCK-rake !" emuc -la e. i^ter. That prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till it is almost rusty. " Give me not riches," is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand. Prov. xxx. 8. Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things now looked afcer.* With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, It is, alas ! too true. "When the Interpreter had shown them this, he has them into the very best room in the house ; a very brave room it was. So he bid them look round about, and see if they could find anything profitable there. Then they looked round and round ; for there was nothing there to be seen but a very great spider on the wall : and that they overlooked. Mercy. Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing ; but Christiana lield her peace. Inter. But, said the Interpreter, look again ; and she there- fore looked again, and said, Here is not anything but an ugly spider, who hangs by her hands upon the wall, pi- • Tiien said he. Is there but one spider in all this spacious room ? Then the water stood in Christiana's eyes, for Talk about the she was a womau quick of apprehension ; and she Spider. gg^jjj^ Tea, Lord, there is here more than one. Tea, and spiders whose venom is far more destructive than that which is in her. The Interpreter then looked pleasantly upon The vulture of insatiate minds Still wants, and -wanting seeks, and seeking finds New fuel to increase l)er rav'nous fire. The gra^ve is sooner cloy'd than men's desire. — (Quarles' Emblems.) « " A full purse and a lean soul, is a sign of a great curse. Oh, it is a sad grant, when the desire is only to make the belly big, the estate big, the nan:e big ; when even by this bigness the soul pines, is made to dwindle, to grow lean and to look like an anatomy ! Like a man in a dropsy, they desire this world as he doth ilrink, tiU they desire themselves quite down to hell." " Some men's hearts are narrow upwards, and wide downwards. Narrow as to God, but wide as to the world; they gape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other." [?>1] THE PILGRIM S PEOGEESS. 237 lier, and said, Thou hast said the truth. This made Mercy blush, and the boys to cover their faces, for they all began now to understand the riddle. Then said the Interpreter- again, " The spider taketh hold with her hands (as you see), and is in Kings' palaces." Prov. XXX. 28. And wherefore is this recorded, but to show you, that how full of the venom of sin soever you ^he interpre- be, yet you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold tation. of, and dwell in the best room that belongs to the King's house above!/ Cheis. I thought, said Christiana, of something of this ; but I could not imagine it all. I thought that we were like spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what fine room soever we were ; but that by this spider, this venomous and ill-favoured creature, we were to learn how to act faith, that came not into my mind. And yet she has taken hold with her hands, as I see, and dwells in the best room in the house. Grod has made nothing in vain. Then they seemed all to be glad; but the water stood in their eyes ; yet they looked one upon another, and also bowed before the Interpreter. He had them then into another room, where was a hen and chickens, and bid them observe a while. So one of the hen and of the chickens went to the trough to drink, chickens. . ,^^, and every time she drank she lift up her head and her/ eyes towards heaven. See, said he, what this little chick doth, and learn of her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Tet again, said he, observe and look ; so they gave heed and perceived that the hen did walk in a four-fold method towards her chickens. 1. She had a common call, and that she hath all day long. 2. She had a / The emblem of the spider is illustrated in Banyan's invaluable treatise on the Resurrection and Eternal Judgment. "The spider will be a witness against man, for she layeth hold with her hands, and is in kings' palaces. It is man only that will not lay hold on the kingdom of heaven, as tlie spider doth bid him." Pr. xxx. 28. [11+] '• Call me not ugly thing; God, wisd )m hath unto the pismire given, And spiders may teach men the way to heaven." [36J 238 THE pilgrim's PrvOQEESS. special call, and that she had but sooietimes, 3. She had a brooding note. And 4. She had an outcry. Matt, xxiii. 37. l^ow, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these chickens to his obedient ones.^ -Por, answerable to her, him- self has his methods, which he walketh in towards his people ; by his common call, he gives nothing ; by his special call, he always has something to give ; he has also a brooding voice, for them that are under his wing ; and lie has an outcry to give the alarm when he seeth the enemy come. I chose, my dar- lings, to lead you into the room where such things are, because you are women, and they are easy for you. Chris. And, Sir, said Christiana, pray let us see some Of the butcher "^ore. So he had them into the slaughter-house, and the sheep, -^bere was a butcher killing of a sheep; and behold the sheep was quiet, and took her death patiently. Then said the Interpreter, Tou must learn of this sheep to suffer and to put up wrongs without murmurings and complaints. Behold how quietly she taketh her death, and without object- ing, she suffereth her skin to be pulled over her ears. Tour King doth call you his sheep. After this, he led them into his garden, where was great Of the ard n variety of flowers; and he said. Do you see aU these ? So Christiana said, Tes. Then said he again. Behold the flowers are diverse in stature, in quality, and colour, and smell, and virtue ; and some are better than some ; also where the gardener hath set them, there they stand, and quarrel not with one another. * e It is very humbling to human pride to be compared to chickens, as dependants en the fostering care of the hen, or as children relying upon a parent. " It is natural for a child, if he wants bread, to go and tell his parent. So should the children of God do for spiritual bread. When the devil tempts you, run home and tell your heavenly Father — pour out your complaints to God ; this is natural to children. If any wrong them, they tell their father; so do those that are born of God, when they meet with temptations, they go and tell God of them. Oh, do not flatter yourselves with a portion among his sons unless you live like sous." [44] * " When Christians stand every one in his place, and do their own work, then they are like the flowers in the garden, that stand and grow where the gardener hath planted them ; and then they shall both honour the garden in which they are planted, and the gardener that hath so disposed of them. From the hyssop in the wall, to the cedar in Lebuuun, their fruit is their glory. — Christians are like THE pilgeim's peogeess. 239 Again, lie liad tliem into his field, which he had sowed with wheat and corn ; but when they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, onlj the straw remained; t e ed. he said again, This ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed ; but what shall we do with the crop ? Then said Chris- tiana, Burn some, and make muck of the rest. Then said the Interpreter again, Eruit, you see, is that thing you look for, and for want of that you condemn it to the fire, and to be trodden under foot of men : beware that in this you condemn, not yourselves. Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a little robin with a great spider in his mouth; of the robin and so the Interpreter said. Look here. So they the spider. looked, and Mercy wonder^ ; but Christiana said, "What a dis- paragement is it to such a little pretty bird as the robin-red- breast is, he being also a bird above many, that loveth to main- tain a kind of sociableness v/ith man ; I had thought they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or upon other such harmless matter. I like him worse than I did. The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an emblem, very apt to set forth some professors by ; for to sight, they are, as this robin, pretty of note, colour, and carriage. They seem also to have a very great love for professors that are sincere ; and above all other, to desire to sociate with them, and to ,be in their company, as if they could live upon the good man's crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that they fre- quent the house of the godly and the appointments of the Lord ; but, when they are by themselves, as the robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders, they can change their diet, drink iniquity, and swallow down sin like water. the several flowers in a garden, that liave upon each of them the dew of heaven; •which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall theii- dew at each othere' roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of one another. For Christians to commune savourly of God's matters one with another, itis as if they opened to each other's nostrils boxes of perfume." [19] This Garden is beauti- fully described in the Holy City. [10+] "I have observed, that as there are herbs and flowers in our gardens, so there are their counterfeits in the field; only they are distinguished from the otlier by the name of wild ones. There is faith and wild faith; and wild faith is presumption. I call it wild faith, because God never placed it in his garden — bis church ; it is only to be found in the field — the world." [381 240 THE PILGEIM's PEOOIi£SS. Qo, when tliey were come again into the house, because Pray, and you s Upper as yet was not ready, Christiana again ^ch^Vet *iies ^csired that the Interpreter would either show ucreveaied. or tell of some other things that are profitable. Then the Interpreter began, and said, The fatter the sow is, the more she desires the mire ; the fatter the ox is, the more garaesomely he goes to the slaughter ; and the more healthy the lusty man is, the more prone he is unto evil. There is a desire in women to go neat and fine, and it is a comely thing to be adorned with that that in God's sight is of great price. It is easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a whole year together. So it is easier for one to begin to profess well, than to hold out as he should to the end. Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will willingly cast that overboard that is of the smallest value in the vessel ; but who Avill throw the best out first ? JSTone but he that feareth not God. One leak will sink a ship; and one sin AviU destroy a sinner. He that forgets his friend, is ungrateful unto him ; but he that forgets his Saviour, is unmerciful to laimself. He that lives in sin, and looks for happiness hereafter, is like him that soweth cockle, and thinks to fill liis barn with wheat or barley. If a man would live well, let him f^tch his last day to him, and make it always his company keeper. Whispering, and change of thoughts, prove that sin is in the Avorld. If the world, which Grod sets light by, is counted a thing of that worth with men; what is heaven, which Grod com- mendeth ? If the life that is attended with so many troubles, is so loath to be let go by us, what is the life above ? Everybody will cry up the goodness of men ; but who is there at is, as he should, affected with the goodness of God ? "We seldom sit down to meat, but we eat and leave ; so there is in Jesus Christ more merit and righteousness than the whole world has need of. THE PILQEIil S PEOGRKSS. 241 "When tlie Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his garden again, and had them to a tree, whose of the tree that inside was all rotteq, and gone, and yet it grew ^^ lotten at heart. and had leaves. Then said Mercy, What means this ? This tree, said he, whose outside is fair, and whose inside is rotten, it is to which many may be compared that are in the garden of Grod ; who with their mouths speak high in behalf of God, but indeed will do nothing for him ; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to be tinder for the devil's tinder-box. Now supper was ready, the table spread, and all things set on the board ; so they sat down and did eat, ,j,^^ ^^^.^ ^^. when one had given thanks. And the Inter- supper. preter did usually entertain those that lodged with him, with music at meals ; so the minstrels played. There was also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he had. His song was this : The Lord is only my support, And he that doth me feed; How can I then want anything Whereof I stand in need ? "When the song and music was ended,' the Interpreter asked Christiana what it was that at first did move her to betake herself to a Pilgrim's life. Chris- ^' tiana answered, First, The loss of my husband came into my mind, at which I was heartily grieved : but all , ,.,. , ' J & ' \ repetition of that was but natural affection. Then, after Christiana's ex- 1 M • f perience. that, came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into my mind, and also how like a churl I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of my mind, and would have drawn me into the pond ; but that opportunely I ■' The propriety of singing in public worship had been much controverted. Eunyan encouraged it, and soon after his decease, B. Keach vindicated the prac- tice, in answer to Marlowe's Discourse against Singing. It must not he forgotten that our pilgrim forefathers generally met in secret, and that singing would have exposed them to imminent peril of their lives. Now we have no such fear; we can unite heart and voice in the language of Dr. Watts — " Lord, how delightful 'tis to see A whole assembly worship thee ! At once they sing, at once they pray." 242 THE pilgrim's mOGEESS. had a dream of the well-being of my hvishand, knd a letter sent me by the King of that country Avhere my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to this way. Inter. But met you with no opposition before you set out of doors ? Chris. Tes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. Timorous (she was akin to him that would have persuaded my husband to go back, for fear of the lions). She all to befooled me for, as she called it, my intended desperate adventure ; she also urged what she could to dishearten me to it ; the hardship and troubles that my husband met with in the way : but all this I got over pretty well.i But a dream that I had of two ill-looked ones, that T thovight did plot how to make me mis- carry in my journey, that hath troubled me much ; yea, it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a mischief, and to turn me out of the way. Tea, I may tell my Lord, though I would not have everybody know it, that between this and the gate by which we got into the waj'', we were both so sorely assaulted that we were made to cry out, Murder ! and the two that made this assault upon us were like the two that I saw in my dream. Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good, thy latter A question put ^^^ ^hall greatly increase. So he addressed to Mercy. himself to Mercy, and said unto her, And what moved thee to come hither, sweet heart ? Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while con- tinued silent. Inter. Then said he, Be not afraid, only believe, and speak thy mind. Mercy. So she began, and said. Truly, Sir, my want of expei'ience is that which makes me covet to be in silence, and that also that fills me with fears ^ Ah, Mrs. Timorous, how many professed pilgrims hast thou befooled and turned back ! How often does she attack and affright real pilgrims ! I am sure she has often made my poor heart ache, with her ghastly looks and ten-ifying Bpeccheii, THE PILaEIll's PEOGEESS. 2'l!3 of coming short at last. I cannot tell of visions and dreams as my friend Christiana can ; nor know I what it is to mourn for mj refusing of the counsel of those that were good rela- tions. Intee. "What was it, then, dear heart, that hath prevailed with thee to do as thou hast done ? Meect. AVhy, when our friend here was packing up to be gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to see her ; so we knocked at the door and went in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, Ave asked what was her meaning. She said, she was sent for to go to her husband; and then she xap and told us how she had seen him in a dream, dwelling in a curious place, among immortals, wearing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince's table, and singing praises to him for bringing him thither, &c. Now, methought, while she was telling these things unto us, my heart burned within me ; and I said in my heart, If this be true, I will leave my father and my mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I may, go along with Christiana. So I asked her further of the truth of these things, and if she would let me go with her ; for I saw now that there was no dwelling, but with the danger of ruin, any longer in our town. But yet I came away with a heavy heart, not for that I was unwilling to come away, but for that so many of my relations were left behind. And I am come, with all the desire of my heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana, unto her husband, and his King.^' Intee. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast gircn credit to the truth. Thou art a Euth, who did, for the love she bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her Grod, leave father and mother, and the land of her nativity, to come out, and go with a people that she knew not heretofore. " The Lord recompense thy * This is the manner in which members are received into Congregational churches, by relating their experience. Christiana, a grave matron, appears to have felt no difBculty in so doing; but Mercy, young and inexperienced, blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent. Their profession being approved, the readiness of the church to receive them is expressed by the warmest wishea for their spiritual prosperity. 24-4 THE pilgrim's PB0GEES3. \\or\i, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust." Euth ii. 12. Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for bed ; the women were laid singly alone, and the boya They address i -«t- -it themselves for ])y themselvos. JN ow wiien Mercy was in bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts of missing at last, were removed further from her than Mercy's good Gver they were before. So she lay blessing and night's rest. praising Grod, who had had such favour for her. In the morning they rose with the sun, and prepared them- selves for their departure ; but the Interpreter would have them tarry awhile, for, said he, you must orderly go from hence. Then said he to the damsel that first opened unto them. Take them and have them into the garden to the bath, and there wash them, and make them clean from the soil which they have gathered by travelling. Then Innocent the damsel took them, and had them into the garden, and brought The bath sane- ^liGi^ to the bath ; SO she told them that there tification. they must wash and be clean, for so her master would have the women to do that called at his house, as they were going on pilgrimage. They then went in and washed, yea, they and the boys and all ; and they came y Ti. m 1 . ^^^^ ^^ ^j^^j_ bath, not only sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and strengthened in their joints. So when they came in, they looked fairer a deal than when they went out to the washing.' "When they were returned out of the garden from the bath, the Interpreter took them, and looked upon them, and said imto them, Fair as the moon. Then he called ey arose e . ^^^ ^^^ seal, whercAvith they used to be sealed that were washed in his bath. So the seal was brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they might be known in the places whither they were yet to go. Now the seal was the contents and sum of the passover which the children of Israel ' There is no travelling on pilgrimage without gathering soil. There are no pilgrims but daily need to have recourse to this bath of sanctification — the blood of Jesus, which cleanseth from all sin. 1 John i. 7. Christ is the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness. Zee. xiii. 1. THE PILGUIil S PE0GEES3. 245 did eat when they came out from the land of Egypt, and the mark was set between their eyes. This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament to their faces. It also added to their gravitj, and made their countenances more like them of angels. Esod. xiii. 8 — 10. Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that waited upon these women, Go into the vestry and fetch out garments for these people ; so she went and fetched out j,^^^ ^^^ white raiment, and laid down before him ; so he clothed. commanded them to put it on. " It was fine linen, wliite and clean." "When the women were thus adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other ; for that they could not see that glory each one on lierself which they could see in each other. Now, therefore, they began to esteem each other better than themselves. "Eor you are fairer than I am," said one ; and, " Ton are more comely than I am," said another. The children also stood amazed to see into what fixshion they were brought.'" The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-heart," and bid him take sword and helmet and shield ; and take these my daughters, said he, and conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which place they will rest next. So he took his weapons and went before them ; and the Inter- preter said, God speed. Those, also, that belonged to the family, sent them away with many a good wish. So they went on their way and sang — This place lias been our second stage; Here we have heard and seen Those good things that, from age to age, To others hid have been. The dung-hill raker, spider, hen. The chicken, too, to me Hath taught a lesson ; let me then Conformed to it be. " They who have put on this raiment are clothed with humility ; they readily perceive the excellence of other believers, but discern their own unworthiness in the glass of God's Word : and thus they learn the hard lesson of esteeming other* better than themselves. ■ "O, the heart, the gri:at heart that Jesus Christ has for ua to do us good." [02] 246 THE pilgrim's PBOaHESS. The butcher, garden, and the field, The robin and his bait, Also the rotten tree doth yield Me argument of weight ; To move me for to watch and pra}-, To strive to be sincere ; To take my cross up day by day, And serve the Lord with fear. jSTow I saw in my dream, that they went on, and Great- heart went before them : so they went and came to the place where Christian's burden fell off his back, and tumbled into a sepulchre. Here, then, they made a pause ; and here also they blessed God. Now, said Christiana, it comes to my mind, what was said to us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed ; by word, that is, by the promise ; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained. "What the promise is, of that I know something ; but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great-heart, I suppose you know ; wherefore, if you please, let us hear you discourse thereof. Geeat-heaut. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained A comment up- by some one, for another that hath need thereof: .a? the^gate,^ oT^a ^^ot by the person pardoned, but in the way, bSSti^ed°by saith another, in which I have obtained it. So ciirist. then, to speak to the question more at large, the pardon that you and Mercy and these boys have attained, was obtained by another, to wit, by him that let you in at the gate ; and he hath obtained it in this double way. He has performed righteousness to cover you, and spilt blood to wash you in." Cheis. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what will he have for himself ? Geeat-heaet. He has more righteousness than you have need of, or than he needeth himself. Cheis. Pray make that appear. Geeat-ueaet. With all my heart ; but first I must premise, • The Saviour's life of perfect obedience to the law, as well as his death as a Bacrifice for his people, forms the bath in which believers are baptized. THE PILGEIM'S PEOGliESS. 247 that he of whom we are now about to speak ia one that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of these natures a righteousness belongeth, and each righteousness is essential to that nature ; so that one may as easily cause the nature to be extinct, as to separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made partakers, so as that they, or any of them, should be put upon us that we might be made just, and live thereby. Besides these, there is a righteousness which this Person has, as these two natures are joined in one : and this is not the righteous- ness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the manhood ; nor the righteousness of the manhood, as distinguished from the Godhead ; but a righteousness which atandeth in the union of both natures, and may probably be called, the righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity of the mediatory office which he was to be intrusted with. If he parts with his first righteousness, he parts with his God- head ; if he parts with his second righteousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood; if he parts with this third, he parts with that perfection that capacitates him to the office of mediation. He has, therefore, another righteousness, which standeth in performance, or obedience to a revealed will ; and that is it that he puts upon sinners, and that by which their sins are covered. "Wherefore he saitli, " As by one man's disobedience, many were made sinners ; so by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous."^ Eomans v. 19. Cheis. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us ? Geeat-heart. Yes ; for though they are essential to his natures and office, and so cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of them, that the righteousness that justifies, is, for that purpose, efficacious. The righteous- ness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience ; the right- eousness of his manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify; and the righteousness that standeth in the union of P Reader, study this point deeply, be established in it. It is tlie essence of the gospel, and brings forth the fruits of righteousness, which are to the praise and glory of God. 248 THE pilgeim's peogeess. these two natures to his office, giveth authority to that right- eousness to do the work for which it is ordained. So then, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has no need for, for he is Grod without it ; here is a righteousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he is perfect man without it; again, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is perfectly so without it. Here, then, is a righteousness that Christ, as God, as man, as God-man, has no need of, with reference to himself, and therefore he can spare it ; a justifying righteous- ness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he giveth it; away ; hence it is called " the gift of righteousness." Eomaus v. 17. This righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the law, must be given away ; for the law doth not only bind him that is under it " to do justly," but to use charity. "Wherefore he must, he ought, by the law, if he hath two coats, to give one to him that hath none. Now, our Lord, indeed, hath two coats, one for him- self, and one to spare ; wherefore he freely bestows one upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana, and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your Lord Christ is he that has worked, and has given away what he wrought for to the next poor begger he meets. 2 9" Is there righteousness in Christ ? That is mine, the believer may say. Did he bleed for sins ? It was for mine. Hath he overcome the law, the devil, and hell ? The victory is mine. And I do count this a most glorious life. — Sometimes (I bless the Lord) my soul hath this life not only imputed to me, but the gloi-y of it upon my spirit. Upon a time, when I was under many coudemnings of heart, and fearing I should miss glory, methought I felt such a secret motion as this — Tliy righteousness is in heaven. The splendour and shining of the Spirit of Grace upon my soul, gave me to see clearly that my righteousness, by which I should be justified, was the Son of God himself representing me before the mercy- seat in his own person ; so that I saw clearly, that day and night, wherever I was, and whatever I was doing, there was my righteousness, just before the eyes of the Divine glory, and continually at the right hand of God. At another time, whilst musing, being afraid to die, these words came upon my soul, ' Being justified ffeely by his grace, through the redemption which is in Christ.' This stayed ray heart. And thus is the sinner made alive from the dead, by being justified through the righteousness of Christ, which is unto all and upon all them that believe." [4] THE PILQEIil'S PEOGEESS. 249 But, again, in order to pardon by deed, there must some- thing be paid to God as a price, as well as something prepared to cover us -withal. Sin has delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law ; now, from this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we have done, Eomaus iv. 24 ; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Gral. iii. 13. Thus has he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed souls with righteousness. Tor the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will not hurt you when he comes to judge the world. Cheis. This is brave. Now, I see there was something to be learned by our being pardoned by word- and christinna af- deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this ^^Jf^of^'redemp'- in mind ; and, my children, do you remember it t'°"- also. But, Sir, was not this it that made my good Christian's burden fall from off his shoulder, and that made him give three leaps for joy ? *■ Geeat-heaet. Yes, it was the belief of this, that cut those strings that could not be cut by other means ; How the strings and it was to give him a proof of the virtue of Mian's "burden "^ this, that he was suffered to carry his bui-den to i^^^^erecut. the cross. Cheis. I thought so; for though my heart was lightful and oyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, though I have ielt but little as yet, that if the most burdened man in the- world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, it woul-.. make his heart the more merry and blithe. Geeat-heaet. There is not only comfort, and the ease of a 'I have found such a sweet, solid, sober, heart-comforting peace, that I have been in a strait to think that I should love and honour him no more. Some- times my sins have appeared as big as all the sins of all the men in the nation —(reader, these things be not fancies, for I have smarted for this experience) but vet the least stream of the heart-blood of Jesus hath vanished all away, and I h.-ive been delivered up into sweet and heavenly peace, and joy in the Uoly Ghost." [4] 250 THE PILGEIM'a PEOailESS. burden brought to us, by the sight and cons- chrilt^'bigot i^ deration of these, but an endeared affection the soul. begot in us by it ; for who can, if he doth but once think that pardon comes, not only by promise, but thus, but be affected by the way and means of his redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him ? Cheis. True; methinks it makes any heart bleed to think First Part ^^'"^^ ^^ should bleed for me. Oh, thou lo\dng p. 09. ' One ! Oh, thou blessed One ! Thou deservest Cause of admira- to havo me ; thou hast bought me; thou de- ^°^- servest to have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth ! No marvel that this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished me with him; but vile wretch that I was, I let him come all alone. Oh, Mercy, that thy father and mother were here ; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also ; nay, I wish now with all my heart, that here was Madame Wanton too. Surely, surely their hearts would be affected ; nor could the fear of the one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home again, and to refuse to become good pilgrims.* Geeat-hearx. Tou speak now in the warmth of your affec- tions. "Will it, think you, be always thus with you ? Besides? this is not communicated to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that stood by, and that saw the blood run from his heart to the ground, and yet were so far off this, that, instead of lamenting, they laughed at him ; and, instead of becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. To be affected So that all that you have, my daughters, you with Christ and , , , . . . -, ■, j • • withwh.athehas have by a peculiar impression made by a divine speo'iaL ^ '^^ Contemplating upon what I have spoken to you. » 0, brave Cliristiana ! " Shall I have my sms and lose my soul? Would not heaven be better to me than my sins '? — the company of God, Christ, saints, and angels, than the company of Cain, Judas, Balaam, with the devils, in the furnace of fii-e ? Canst thou now that readest, or hearest these lines, turn thy back, and go on in thy sins ? If I had time to speaJc fully of these heavenly truths, it might persuade some wretch that is marching hellwards post-haste, to stop and accept salvation for his poor soul, before God's eternal vengeance is executed on him. O, you that are on this march, consider ! " [-1] xiiE pilueim's progress. 251 Eemeraber that it was told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her chickens. This you have, therefore, by a special grace. Now, I saw still in my dream, that they went on until they were come to the place that Simple, and Sloth, and simple and Presumption,' lay and slept in, when Christian ^'°'^^ . ^"'^ '^^'^' went by on pilgrimage ; and, behold, they were axid why. hanged up in irons, a little way off on the other side. " Meect. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, What are those three men ? and for what are they hanged there ? Geeat-heakt. Tiiese three men were men of very bad qualities. They had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and whosoever they could, they hindered. They were for sloth and folly themselves, and whoever they could persuade with, they made so too ; and, withal, taught them to presume that tliey should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went by ; and now you go by, they are hanged. «" Behold here how the slothful are a sign Hung up, 'cause holy ways they did decline. See here too how the child doth play the man, And weak grow strong, when Great- heart leads the van. Meect. But could they persuade any to be of their opinion ? Geeat-heaet. Yes ; they turned several out of the way. There was Slow-pace, that they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short- wind, with one ISTo-heart, with one Linger-after vaiied^upou totum lust, and with one Sleepy-head, and with a young °''^ °^ "'" '''^^■• woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the way, and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord, ' Simple, contented in gross ignorance; Sloth, an indolence which smothers all conviction ; Presumption, carnal security wliich hardens against reproof. These are the great opposers of vital religion. The end of these things is death. « It was a custom, to a late period, to hang up murderers in irons, until the body dropped to pieces ; that such terrible examples might deter others from tlie il:e crimes ; (his, instead of producing any good, tended to scandalize seme and to brutalize others, and it was wisely discontinued. " The dreadful falls and awful deaths of some professors are to pnt others upon their guard against superficial, slothful, and presumptuous hopes. 252 THE PILGRIll's PEOGliESS. persuading others tliat lie was a taskmaster. They also brought up an evil report of the good laud, saying it was not half so good as some pretend it was. They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the very best of them meddlesome, troublesome busybodies. Further they could call the bread of God husks ; the comforts of his children, fancies ; the travel and labour of pilgrims, things to no purpose. Cheis. jSTay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall never be bewailed by me. They have but what they deserve ; and I think it is well that they hang so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven on some plate of iron or brass, and left here, even where they did their mischief, for a caution to other bad men ? GrEEAT-HEAET. So it is, as you Well may perceive, if you will go a little to the wall. Meect. 'No, no ; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live for ever against them. I think it a high favour that they were hanged before we came hither ; who knows else what they might have done to such poor women as we are ? Then she turned it into a song, saying — Now then, you three, hang there, and be a sign To all that shall against the truth combine. And let him that comes after fear this end, If unto pilgrims he is not a friend. And thou, my soul, of all such men beware, That unto holiness opposers are. Thus they went ou, till they came at the foot of the Hill First Tai-L Difficulty,"' where, again, their good friend, Mr. p- ■!■•*• Great-heart, took an occasion to tell them of It is difficult what happened there when Christian himself doctmo°in mo- Aveut by. So he had them first to the spring. neous times. -j^^^ ^^-^ -^^^ ^l^g ^^ ^^^ spring that Christian drank of, before he went up this hill ; and then it was clear " What is meant by the Hill Difficulty ? Christiana has set out from Destruc- tion, been received and encouraged at the wicket-gate, and directed on her journey. The path is compai-atively easy, until she is about to put on a pubhc professio:i, by joining a church. This is situated upon the summit of this hill of difficult THE riLOEIii's PEOGUESS. 253 and good, but now it is dirty with the feet of some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their tliirst. Ezek. sxxiv. 18. Thereat, Mercy said, And why so envious, trow ? But, said their guide, it will do, if taken up, and put into a vessel that is sweet and good ; for then the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water will come out by itself more clear.* Thus, therefore, Christiana and her companions were compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and thou they drank thereof. IS^ext, lie showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill, where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And, said he, these are dangerous though baned paths. Two were here cast away when Christian nii'from going ia came by ; and, although, as you see, these ways ^^^'^' are since stopped up with chains, posts, and a ditch, yet there are that will choose to adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this hill. CnEis. " The way of transgressors is hard." Prov. xiii. 15. It is a wonder that they can get into those ways without danger of breaking their necks.'-' GrEEAT-HEAET. They wiU venture. Tea, if at any time any of the king's servants do happen to see them, and do call unto them, and tell them that they are in the wrong ways, and do bid ascent. Is it intended to represent that pra3-erful, watchful, personal investigation into Divine truth, 'wliich ought to precede church-fellowship ? Nothing is more (JifUcult to flesh and blood than to he compelled, upon pain of endless ruin, to tliuik for ourselves on matters of religion. ' " The river of life is pure and clear as crj-stal. Is the doctrine offered to thee so ? Or is it muddy, and mixed with the doctrines of men ? Look, man, and see if the foot of the worshippers of Baal he not there, and the water fouled thereby. AVhat water is fouled is not the water of life, or at least not in its clearness. Wherefore, if thou findest it not right, go up higher towards the springhead, for nearer the spring the more pure and clear is the water." [41] "The Eomish beasts have cornipted doctrine by treading it down with their feet, and have muddied this water with their own dirt and fllthiness." [lO+j ." Although the cautions of Holy Writ are plain as posts and chains, and the warnings as a ditch, and the solemn threatenings of the New Testament against foi-malism and hypocrisy are like a hedge, to prevent pilgrims wandering into paths that end in eternal miserj', yet there are many who break through all these tiierciful restraints, and rush upon destruction. 254 THE pilgeim's peogkess. them beware the clanger, then tliey -will railingly return them answer, and say, " As for the word that thou hast spoken uuto us in the name of the Lord, we will not hearken unto thee ; but we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth forth out of our own mouth," &c. Jer. xliv. 16, 17. Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see that these ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and chain, but also by being hedged up, yet they will choose to go there. Chbis. They are idle ; they love not to take pains ; up-hill Tbo reason why ^^''^'^ ^^ Unpleasant to them. So it is fultilled sojic do choose to uuto them as it is written, " The way of the slothful man is as an hedge of thorns." Prov. XV. 19. Yea, they will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill, and the rest of this way to the city. Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, and up The Ml puts the the hill they went ; but before they got to the iignms to It. ^^p^ Christiana began to pant ; and said, I dare say this is a breathing hill. No marvel if they that love their ease more than their souls, choose to themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; also the least of the children began to cry. Come, come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince's arbour. Then took he the little boy by the hand, and led him up thereto. "Wnen they were come to the arbour, they were very willing The sit in the ^^ ^'^^ dowu, for they were all in a pelting heat, arbour. Then Said Mercy, How sweet is rest to thera First Part that labour. Matt. xi. 28. And how good is pp. i — . . ^i^g Prince of pilgrims to provide such resting- places for tliem ! Of this arbour I have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here let us beware of sleeping ; for, as I have heard, for that it cost poor Christian dear. Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my The little boy's Pretty boys, how do you do ? AVhat think you ^mT and also "°^ °^ S^^^S OH pilgrimage? Sir, said the to Mercy. least, I was almost beat out of heart ; but I thank you for lending me a hand at my need. And I remember now what my mother hath told me, namely, that the way ta heaven is as up a ladder, and the way to hell is as down a hilL THE PILGEIil's PE0GLE3S. 255 But I had rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death. ^ Then said Mercy, But the prorerb is, To go down the hill is easj. But James said (for that was his name), ._^. , . j^^, ^^, The day is coming when, in my opinion, going up ^'^ or down down hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said his Master, thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled ; but the little boy did blush. Cheis. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a little to sweeten your mouths, while you sit here to They refresh rest your legs? For I have here a piece of ti^emseives. pomegranate, which Mr, Interpreter put in my hand, just when I came out of his doors. He gave me also a piece of a honeycomb, and a little bottle of spirits. I thought he gave you something, said Mercy, because he called you aside. Tes ; so he did, said the other. But, said Christiana, it shall stiD be, as I said it should, when at first we came from home, thou shalt be a sharer in all the good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my companion. Then she gave to them, and they did ent. both Mercy and the boys. And, said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, Sir, will you do as we ? But he answered. You are going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall return. Much good may what you have do to you. At home I eat the same every day. Wow, when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their guide said to them. The day wears away, if you think good, let us prepare to be going. So they got up to go, and the little boys went before. But Christiana forgot to take her bottle ' " Regard not in thy pilgrimage how difficult the passage is, but whither it tends ; not how delicate the journey is, but where it ends. If it be easy, suspect it ; if hard, endure it." " There were stairs in the temple, and but one pair, and these winding. He that went up must turn with the stairs. This is a t}-pe of a twofold repentance : that by which we turn from nattu-e to grace, and that by which we turn from the imperfections of a state of grace to glory. But this turning and turning still, displeases some much. They say it makes them giddy ; but I say. Nothing like this to make a man steady, A straight stair is like the ladder that leads to the gallows. They are taming stairs that lead to the heavenly mansion. Stay not at their foot; but go up them, and up them, and up them, till you come to heaven." [42] 25G THE PUiGEIM'S PROGRESS. of spirits with her ; so she sent her little boy back to feteli Christiana for- ^^' ^^^11 Said Mercj, I think this is a losing gets her bottle of place. Here Christian lost his roll ; and here 6pints. /-ii • • Christiana left her bottle beliind her. Sir, what is the cause of this ? So their guide made answer, and said, The cause is sleep or forgetfulness. Some sleep when they should keep awake ; and some forget when they should remember ; and this is the very cause why, often at the resting- Mark this. places, some pilgrims, in some things, come off losers. Pilgrims should watch, and remember what they have already received under their greatest enjoy- ments ; but for want of doing so, ofttimes their rejoicing ends First Part, in tears, and their sunshine in a cloud." Wit- pp. 77—90 jjggg ^|jg story of Christian at this place. "When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were a stage, and before it towards the road, a broad plate, with a copy of verses written thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that stage in that place, rendered. The verses were these : — Let him who-sees this stage take heed Unto his heart and tongue ; Lest if he do not, here he speed, As some have long agone. The words underneath the verses were, "This stage was built to punish such upon, who, through Timorousness or Mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pilgrimage ; also, on this stage, both Mistrust and Timorous were burned through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to hinder Christian in his journey." * ° " Eve looking first into those worthy privileges which God had given her, and dilating delightfully of them before the devil, she lost the dread of the com- mand from off her heart, which Satan perceiving, now added to his former forged doubt a plain and flat denial — ' Ye shall not surely die.' When people dally with the devil, and sit too near their outward advantages, they fall into tempta- tion." [45] * This may refer to the awful end of one of Bunyan's early friends, who became a notorious apostate — one John Child, whose sufferings were published with tliosa of Spira. Child was so afraid of persecution as to give up his profession ; and then, overwhelmed by despair, he committed suicide. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 257 Then said Mercy, This is much like to the sayiig of the Beloved, " "What shall be given unto thee ? or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue ? Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper." Psa. crx. 3^4. So they went on, till they came within sight of the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he j-jrst Part was not afraid of a lion ; but yet when they p- ~^- were come up to the place where the lions were, the boys that went before were glad to cringe behind, for ^^ emblem of they were afraid of the lions : so they stepped those that go ou 1 T ii'i »!• T'-i bravely, whea back, and went behind. At this their guide there is no cian- .,,,., -f-r 1 1 ger, but shrink smiled, and said, Jlow now, my boys, do you when troubles love to go before, when no danger doth ap- ^°™°' proach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear ? 'Now, as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, with intent to make a way for the pilgrims, in spite of the lions. Then there appeared one, that it seems, had taken upon him to back the lions ; and he said to the Pilgrims' r^. r^ ■ ^i ' _ t' Of Grim the guide. What is the cause of your coming hither ? Giant, and of Ms '^ „ T ii . backmg the lions. JSow the name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of pilgrims, and he was of the race of the giants." Geeat-heaet. Then said the Pilgrims' guide. These women and children are going on pilgrimage ; and this is the way they must go, and go it they shall, in spite of thee and the lions.'' Geim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will back the lions." Now, to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, <■ It is not very easy to determine the precise obstacles intended by the giants ■who assault the pilgi-ims. This giant may be the emblem of men who busied themselves in framing and putting in force persecuting statutes. Heavy fines and severe penalties, in addition to reproach and contempt, deterred many from joining themselves in communion with churches. "* " ViTe are resolved to resist thee as long as a captain, a man, a sling, or a stona shall be found in Mansoul to throw at thee. Then said the Lord Mayor to Dia- bolus, thou devouring tyrant, be it known to thee, we shall hearken to none of thy words !" [27] ' " It is better that the body should die to this world by the lions without, than that body and soul should die eternally by our lusts within." 25S THE piigeim's peogeess. and of the grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost all grown over with grass. Cheis. Then said Christiana, Though the highways have been unoccupied heretofore, and though the travellers have been made in time past to walk through by-paths, it must not be so now I am risen. Now, "I am risen a mother in Israel." Judges v. 6, 7. Geim. Then he swore by the lions, but it should ; and therefore bid them turn aside, for they should not have passage there. Geeat-heaet. But their guide made first his approach unto Grim, and laid so heavily at him with his sword, that he forced him to a retreat. Geim. Then said he that attempted to back the lions, Will you slay me upon mine own ground ? Geeat-heaet. It is the King's highway that we are in, and A fi ht betwixt ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^ thou hast placed thy lions ; Glim and Great- but thcso womcu and these children, though heart. . . . , weak, shall hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And with that he gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this blow he also broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the women, and yet they were glad to see him lie The Tictoiy. ' -^ •' t i.t , t sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. Where- fore, when old Grim, that intended to back them, was dead, Mr. Great-heart said to the Pilgrims, " Come now, and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the lions." They Theypassby therefore went on, but the women trembled as the hons. ^]^gy pagged by them ; the boys also looked as if they would die, but they all got by without further hurt./ ■f From the deeply interesting narrative of the experience of Mr. Fearing, p. 309, it is plain that the lions and tlieir hacker, Bloody-man, relate to temporal troubles ; most lUcely to those infamous penal statutes under which Christians so severely suffered. Church- fellowship was attended with the ordinary difficulties, and with danger from the lions, especially when backed by ferocious judges, such TUE pilghim's peogeess. 259 N"ow then they -were within sight of the Porter's Lodge, and they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it is dangerous travelling there in the night. So when they were come They come to the to the gate, the guide knocked, and the Porter Porter's lodge. cried, Who is there ? But as soon as the guide had said. It is I, he knew his voice, and came down (for the guide had oft before that, come thither, as a conductor of pilgrims). When he was come down, he opened the gate, and seeing the guide standing just before it (for he saw not the women, for they were behind him), he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great- heart, what is your business here so late to-night ? I have brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord's commandment, they must lodge ; I had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the giant that did use to back the lions ; but I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in safety .5' PouTEB. Will you not go in, and stay till morning ? Geeat-heaet. No. I will return to my Lord , Great-heart at- , • 1 , ' •' tempts to go back. to-night. ^ Cheis. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing you should leave us in our pilgrimage, you have been so faithful The pilgrims im- and so loriug to us, you have fought so stoutly p^[}j® ^^^ company for us, you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that I shall never forget your favour towards us. Meect. Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy com- pany to our journey's end ! How can such poor women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, without a friend and defender ? James. Then said James, the yoimgest of the boys, Pray, Sir, be persuaded to go with us, and help us, because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. as Jefferies and others. Spiritual enemies — sin, death, and hell — were the only terrors under which Mr. Fearing suffered: temporal persecutions — " difficulties, lions, or Vanity Fair — he feared not at all." s If pilgrims are attacked by Giant Grim, and terrified with the sight of lions, it is only a prelate to some asylum, some sanctuary of rest, peace, and comfort. 260 THE riLGMM's PEOGEESa. Geeat-heaet. I am at my Lord's commandment ; if lio sliall allot me to be your guide quite tlirougli, I will willingly Help lost for "^^^^ upon you. But here you failed at first; want of asking for. f^j,^ when he bid me come thus far with you, then you should have begged me of him to have gone quite through with you, and he would have granted your request. However, at present, I must withdraw ; and so, good Chris- tiana, Mercy, and my brave children. Adieu. Then the Porter, Mr. "Watchful, asked Christiana of her First Part, country, and of her kindred ; and she said, P""®- I came from the City of Destruction; 1 am a widow woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was Christiana makes Christian, the Pilgrim. How ! said the Porter, thf^ porter 7" he '^'^s He your husbaud ? Tes, said she, and teUsittoadamsei. ^i^q^q ^ro his children; and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my townswomen. Then the Porter rang his bell, as at such times he is wont, and there came to the door one of the damsels, whose name was Humble-mind ; and to her the Porter said, Gro tell it Avithin, that Christiana, the wife ^ ^^ .of Christian, and her children, are come hither Joy at the noise _ , ' , of the Pilgrims on pilgrimage. She went in, therefore, and told it. But what noise for gladness was there within, when the damsel did but drop that word out of her mouth ! So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christiana stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, Come in, Christiana, come in, thou wife of that good man ; come in, thou blessed woman ; come in, with all that are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her that were her children and her companions. ISTow when they were gone in, they were had into a very large room, where they were bidden to sit dovni ; so they sat down, and the chief of the house was Christians' love Called to sce and wclcome the guests. Then sL^'of^^one'^'arK)^ ^^^7 Came in, and understanding who they tiier. were, did salute each other with a kiss," and * A comely salute among females, but not in a mixed company. " When I have seen good men salute those women that they have visited, I have told them it in not a comely sight, and have asked why they did salute the handsome and let the ill-favoured go. God keep me from this and every evil way." [12t 315] THE pilgeim's peogkess. 261 said, "Welcome, ye vessels of tte grace of God ; welcome t o us your friends. Now, because it was somewhat late, and because the Pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also made faint with the sight of the fight, and of the terrible lions, therefore they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest. Nay, said those of the family, refresh yourselves first with a morsel of meat ; for they had prepared for them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce belonging thereto. Ex. xii. 21, 28 ; John i. 29 ; for the Porter had heard before of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, if we may be so bold pjrst part, as to choose, be in that chamber that was my p- ^^* husband's when he was here ; so they had them up thither, and they lay all in a room. AYhen they were ciiHst's bosom at rest, Christiana and Mercy entered into dis- is for aii pUgnms. course about things that were convenient. Cheis. Little did I think once, that when my husband went on pilgrimage, I should ever have followed. Meect. And you as little thought of lying in his bod, and in his chamber to rest, as you do now. Cheis. And much less did I ever think of seeing his face with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with him, and yet now I believe I shall. Meect, Hark ! Don't you hear a noise ? Cheis. Yes ; it is, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy that we are here.' Meect. "Wonderful! music in the house, j^^^.^ music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we are here ! Thus they talked a while, and then betook themselves to sleep. So, in the morning, when these were awake, Christiana said to Mercy : "Immanuel also made a feast for them. He feasted them with food that grew not in the fields of Mansoul, nor in the whole kingdom of the Universe. It came from tlie Father's court. There was music also all the while at the table, and man did eat angels' food. I must not forget to tell you, that the musicians were the masters of the songs sung at the court of Shaddai." [27] 262 THE PILGBIM's PSOaEESS. Mercy did laugii Chris. "What was tlie matter that you did m her sleep. l^^glj {j^ jq^j. sleep to-lligllt ? I SUppOSe JOM was in a dream. Meect. So I was, and a sweet dream it was ; but are you sure I laughed ? Cheis. Tes ; you laughed heartily ; but, prithee, Mercy, tell me thy dream. IVIeect. I was a-drearaed that I sat all alone in a solitary „ . J place, and was bemoaning of the hardness of Mercy s dream. J- ' ° my heart. Now, I had not sat there long, but methought many were gathered about me, to see me, and to hear what it was that I said. So they hearkened, and I went on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them laughed at me, some called me fool, and some began to What her dre.am thrust me about. With that, methought I ^^^- looked up, and saw one coming witb wings towards me. So he came directly to me, and said, Mercy, what aileth thee ? Now, when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, " Peace be to thee." He also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He put a chain about my neck, and ear-rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head. Ezek. xvi. 8 — 11. Then he took me by the hand, and said, Mercy, come after me. So he went up, and I followed, till we came at a golden gate Then he knocked ; and when they within had opened, the man went in, and I followed him up to a throne, upon which one sat, and he said to me, Welcome, daughter. The place looked bright and twinkling, like the stars, or rather like the sun •, and I thought that I saw your husband there. So I awoke from my dream. But did I laugh ? , Cheis. Laugh! ay, and well you might, to see yourself so well. Eor you must give me leave to tell you, that I believe it was a good dream ; and that, as you have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at last. " God speaketh once, yea, twice, i/ef man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon raen, in slumberings upon the bed." Job xxxiii. 14, 15. Y»^e need not, when a-bed, lie awake to talk with God. He can THE PILaEIM's PEOGKESS. 263 visit us while we sleep, and cause us then to hear his voice. Our heart ofttimes wakes when we sleep ; and God can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by signs and similitudes, as well as if one was awake. MEEcr. Well, I am glad of my dream ; for ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ I hope, ere long, to see it fulfilled, to the ter" dream. making me laugh again..' Cheis. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must do. Meect. Pray, if they invite us to stay awhile, let us willingly accept of the profier. I am the willinger to stay awhile here, to grow better acquainted with these maids. Methinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober countenances.* Cheis. We shall see what they will do. So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not. Meecy. Very good, said Mercy; it was one of the best night's lodgings that ever I had in my life. Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be persuaded to stay here awhile, you shall have what the house ^j^gy g^.^^ j^^.^.^ will afford. sometime. Chae. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity. So they consented and staid there about a month or above, and became very profitable one to another. And because Prudence would see how Christiana had brought up her children, she asked leave of her to catechise to catechise cims- them. So she gave her free consent. Then she ^^"''^'- ' '^'^• began at the youngest, whose name was James. i Tlie assurance that the dream should be accomplished, is c^ounded on the efifects produced upon Mercy's heart; there is no danger of delusion, when so scriptural an encouragement is inferred even from a dream. * Can we wonder that the pilgrims longed to spend some time with such lovely companions? Reader, how is your inclination? Add to these " Simplicity, Inno- cence, and Godly-sincerity; without which three graces thou wilt be a hypocrite, let thy notions, thy knowledge, thy profession, and commendations from others, be what they will." [34] Christian, in choosmgthy companions, specially cleave to these six virgins, for they not only have very comely and sober countenances, but Clirist dwells with them. 264 THE pilgeim's peogeess. 3axD.es catechised. Peudence. Aud she said, Come, James, canst thou tell me who made thee ? James. God the Father, Grod the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell me -who saves thee? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Peud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father save thee? James. By his grace. Peud. How doth God the Son save thee? James. By his righteousness, death, and blood, and life. Peud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? James. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his preservation.' Then said Prudence to Christiana, Tou are to be commended for thus bringing up your children. I suppose I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them can answer them so well. I will therefore now apply myself to the next youngest. Peud. Then she said, Come, Joseph (for his Joseph catechised, name was Joseph), will you let me catechise you? Joseph. "With all my heart. Peud. What is man ? Joseph. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as ■ my brother said. Peud. "What is supposed by this word "saved ?" Joseph. That man, by sin, has brought himself into a state of captivity and misery. Peud. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity ? This is a very sensible mode of catechising according to age and acquirement, ■with questions, exciting their attention to subjects of the gravest importance. Compare this with the custom of asking a cliild its name, and requiring it to nar- rate circumstances which took place in the time of unconscious babyhood; instead of impressing upon it the existence of God and the solemn realities of eternity. Eunyan's catechism is admirably adapted to assist a parent in these important esercises. THE pilgeim's progeess. 265 Joseph. That sin is so great and miglity a tyrant, that none can pull us out of its clutches, but God ; and that Grod is so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this miserable state. Peud. "What is God's design in saving of poor men? Joseph. The glorifying of his name, of his grace and justice &c., and the everlasting happiness of his creature. Pktjd. "Who are they that must be saved ? Joseph. Those that accept of his salvation. Peud. Good boy, Joseph ; thy mother has taught thee well, and thou hast hearkened to what she hath said unto thee. Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the eldest but one, Peud. Come, Samuel, are you willing that I , 1 , . , . TO Samuel catechised should catechise you also i Samuel. Tes, forsooth, if you please. Peud. What is heaven ? Sam. a place and state most blessed, because God dwelleth there. Peud. What is hell ? Sam. a place and state most woeful, because it is the dwell- ing-place of sin, the devil, and death. Peud. "Why wouldest thou go to heaven ? Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without weariness ; that I may see Christ, and love him everlastingly ; that I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in me that I can by no means here enjoy. Peud. A very good boy also, and one that has learned well. Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose name was Matthew ; and she said to him. Come, Matthew, Matthew shall I also catechise you ? catechised. Matthew. With a very good will. Peud. I ask, then, if there was ever anything that had a being antecedent to, or before God ? Matt. No ; for God is eternal ; nor is there anything except- ing himself, that had a being until the beginning of the first day. " For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is." Peud. What do you think of the Bible ? K 266 THE pilgeim's peogeess. Matt. It is the lioly AVord of God. PnxjD. Is there notliing written tlierein but wliat you under- stand ? Matt. Tes ; a great deal. Peud. "What do you do when you meet with such places therein that you do not understand ? Matt. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be for my good. Pettd. How believe you as touching the resurrection of the dead? Matt. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried : the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe this upon a double account : Pirst, because God has promised it ; secondly, because he is able to perform it. Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still hearken to Prudence's con- your mother, for she can learn you more. Tou cateoMsiTof the must also diligently give ear to what good tallc ""y^- you shall hear from others ; for, for your sakes do they speak good things. Observe, also, and that with care- fulness, what the heavens and the earth do teach you ; bub especially be much in the meditation of that Book that was the cause of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, for my part, my children, will te'^ch you what I can while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me questions that tend to godly edifying. Now, by that these Pilgrims had been at this place a week, Mercy has a sweet- ^^ercy had a visitor that pretended some good- heart. ^]\i unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk, a man of some breeding, and that pretended to religion ; but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. Her mind also was, to be always busying of herself in doing ; for when she had nothing to do for lierself, Merce 's temper. , i i i i • n i j j. she would be making ot hose and garments. for others, and would bestow them upon them tliat had THE pilgrim's progeess. 267 need.** And Mr. Brislr, nob knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth he to himself." Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired of them concerning him, for they did know him better than she." of the maids "on- So they told her, that he was a very busy young '^^'"^"^ ^- "*'• man, and one that pretended to religion ; but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which was good. Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him ; for I pur- pose never to have a clog to my soul. Prudence then replied that there needed no great matter of discouragement to be given to him, her continuing so as she had begun to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage. So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old work, a-making of things for the poor. Then said he, "What ! always at it? Tes, said she, either for myself or Talk betwixt Mercy for others. And what canst thou earn a-day ? ^^"^ ^^- ■'^"®'^- quoth he. I do these things, said she, " that I may be rich in good works, laying up in store a good foundation against the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal life." 1 Tim. vi. 17 — 19. "Why, prithee, what dost thou with them ? Clothe the naked, said she. "With that his countenance He forsakes her, fell. So he forbore to come at her again; and and why. when he was asked the reason why, he said, that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill conditions. *• This is an important lesson to young females, how they may profitably employ their time, adorn the gospel, and be useful. It is much better to imitate Dorcas, in making garments for the poor, than to waste time and money iu frivolous amusements, or needless decorations. ■ The character of Mr. Lrisk is portrayed to the life in Bunyan's Emblems — " Candles that do blink within the socket. And saints whose eyes are always in their pocket, Are much alike; such candles make us fumble. And at such saints, good men and bad do stumble." • The character of Mercy is lovely throughout the pilgrimage ; but in the im- portant choice of a partner for life, she manifests great prudence, she asks the advice of those who knew Mr. Brisk. And when she discovered the selfishness of liis disposition, she bid him, Good-bye, sweetheart; and parted for life. 2GS THE pilgrim's pkogress When lie had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee ? yea, he practice of mercy wiU raise Up an ill report of thee ; for, notwith- rejected : while • t i- / < t • i i • Mercy in the name Standing his pretence to religion, and his seein- of mercy is Uked. -^^ j^^^ ^^ Mcrcy, yet Mcrcy and he are of tempers so different, that I believe they will never come to- gether. Meect. I might have had husbands afore now, though I spake not of it to any ; but they were such as did not like my conditions, though never did any of them find fault with my person. So they and I could not agree. Pbud. Mercy in our days is little set by, any further than as to its name ; the practice, which is set forth by thy conditions, there are but few that can abide. Meect. "Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will die a maid, or my conditions shall be to me as a Mercy's resolution. , , , « t j ^ j j husband ; tor i cannot change my nature; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as long as I live. I had a sister How Mercy's sis- n-r> j-pijij -tj i« ter was served by named Uountilul, that was married to one of herhusban . thcsc churls ; but he and she could never agree; but because my sister was resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors.* Petjd. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you. Meect. Tes, such a one as he was, and of such as he the world is now full ; but I am for none of them all. Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and his sickness was sore upon him, for he was lilatthew falls sick. i ■ i • i • t. i iij.i -ji much pained m his bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled as it were both ends together.? There P Crying down at the cross, and turning a wife out of doors, refers to a vulgar error, which had its influence to a late period in Bedfordshire. It was a mode of divorce, similar to an old practice in London, of leading a wife by a halter to Smithfield, and selling her. The crying at the market cross that a man would not be answerable for the debts that might be incurred by his wife, was supposed to absolve a husband from maintaining his wife ; a notion now fully exploded. * Matthew, in being admitted a member of the cliurch, renres-sated by the THE PILGElll's PROGRESS. 2G9 dwelt aiso not far from tlience, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and •well approved physician. So Christiana desired it, and they sent for him, and he came. "When he was entered the room, and had a little observed the boy, he concluded Gripes of that he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to conscience. his mother. What diet has Matthew of late fed upon ? Diet ! said Christiana, nothing but that which is wholesome. The physician answered. This boy has been tamper- The physician's ing with something that lies in his maw un- judgment. digested, and that will not away without means. And I tell you, he must be purged, or else he will die. Sam. Then said Samuel, Mother, mother, what was that which my brother did gather up and eat, so soon samuei puts his as we were come from the gate that is at the re^^f^^it"" Mstro- head of this way ? You know that there was an t^^er did eat. orchard on the left hand, on the other side of the wall, and some of the trees hung over the wall, and my brother did plash and did eat. Cheis. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof, and did eat ; naughty boy as he was, I did chide him, and yet lie would eat thereof' Skill. I knew he had eaten something that was not whole- some food ; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is the fruit of Beelzebub's orchard. I do marvel that none did warn you of it ; many have died thereof. Chbis. Then Christiana began to cry; and she said, O naughty boy ! and O careless mother ! What shall I do for my son ? Skill. Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may do well again, but he must purge and vomit. Chris. Pray, Sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it costs. Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. So he made hnn house Beautiful and its happy family, had to relate his experience, and this brought to his recollection plashing the trees, and eating the enemy's fmit. •■ " In time of temptation it is our duty to keep close to the word, then we have Satan at the end of the staff. When Eve was tempted, she went to the outside of her liberty, and sat herself on the brink of danger, when she said, we may eat of nil but one." [45] Now Matthew feels the bitterness of repentance. 270 THE PIiaEIM's PEOQEESS. a purge, but it was too weak ; it was said, it waa made of the blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, &c. Heb. x. 1 — 4. When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, The Latin I ^^ made him one to the purpose ; it was made boiTow. g^ came et sanguine Christi.' John vi. 54 — 57 ; Heb. ix. 14. (You know physicians give strange medicines to their patients.) And it was made up into pills, with a promise or two, and a proportionable quantity of salt. Mark ix. 49. Now he waa to take them three at a time fasting, in half a quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. When this The boy loath to potiou was prepared, and brought to the boy, take the physic, j^g was loath to take it, though torn with the gripes as if he should be pulled in pieces. Come, come, said the physician, you must take it. It goes against my stomach, said the boy. Zech. xii. 10. I must have you take it, said his mother, I shall vomit it up again, said the boy. Pray, Sir, said Christiana, to Mr. Skill, how does it taste ? It has no ill taste, said the doctor ; and with that she touched one of the pills with the tip of her tongue. Oh, Matthew, The mother . ... . tastes it, and per- Said she, this potion is sweeter than honey. If a es m. thou lovest thy mother, if thou lovest thy bro- thers, if thou lovest Mercy, if thou lovest thy life, take it. So with much ado, after a short prayer for the blessing of God tipon it, he took it, and it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, it caused him to sleep and rest quietly ; it put him into a fine heat and breathing sweat, and did quite rid him of his gripes. So in little time he got up, and in the hand of his walked about with a staff, and would go from room to room, and talk with Prudence, Piety, and Charity, of his distemper, and how he was healed.' So when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. Skill, * Mr. Bunyan's modesty is admirable ; lie quotes Latin, but is careful to tell us, "The Latin I borrow." The English is, " Of tlie flesh and of the blood of Clirist." This is the only potion for sin-sick souls. ' How correctly are the effects of an indulgence in sin described. Sin and sorrow are inseparable. " If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are sjiiiitual, restore Buch an one in the spirit of meekness." TUE pilgeim's peogeess. 271 saying, Sir, what will content you foi' your pains and care to and of my child ? And he said, You must pay the Master of the College of Physicians, according to rules made in that case and provided. Heb. siii. 11 — 16. Cheis. But, Sir, said she, what is this pill good for else ? Skill. It is an universal pill; it is good against all the diseases that Pilgrims are incident to ; and when This pm an uni- it is well prepared, it will keep good, time out versai remedy. of mind. Cheis. Pray, Sir, make me up twelve boxes of them; for if I can get these, I wiU never take other physic. Skill. These pills are good to prevent diseases, as well as to cure when one is sick. Tea, I dare say it, and stand to it, that if a man will but use this physic as he should, it will make him live for ever. John vi. 50. But, good Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way but as I have f 1 V In a glass of prescribed ; for, if you do, they will do no good." the tears of re- So he gave unto Christiana physic for herself, and her boys, and for Mercy ; and bid Matthew take heed how he eat any more green plums, and kissed them, and went his way. It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that if at any time they would, tliey should ask her some questions that might be profitable, and she would say something to them. Matt. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, "Why, for the most part, physic should be bitter to our palates ? Peud. To show how unwelcome the 'Word of God, and the eflects thereof, are to a carnal heart. Matt. Why does physic, if it does good, of the effects of purge, and cause that we vomit ? physio. Petjd. To show that the "Word, when it works effectually, cleanseth the heart and mind, Por look, what the one doth to the body, the other doth to the soul.* » This advice should be carefully noted. Numbers presnine on forgiveness, when they are destitute of genuine repentance, and give no evidence of sancti- fication. • Bunyan's bill of his Master's water of life :— " As men, in their bills, do give An account of the persons cured, and the diseases removed, so could I give you 272 THE pilgrim's peogress. Matt. What should we learn by seeing the flame of our fire Of fire and of the go upwards ? and by seeing the beams and sweet ®""- influences of the sun strike downwards ? Peud, By the going up of the fire we are taught to ascend to heaven by fervent and hot desires ; and by the sun's sending his heat, beams, and sweet influences downwards, we are taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reacheth down with his grace and love to us below. Matt. Where have the clouds their water ? Prud. Out of the sea. Matt. What may we learn from that ? Pktjd. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from Grod. Matt. AVhy do they empty themselves upon the earth ? Peud. To show that ministers should give out what they know of God to the world. Matt. Why is the rainbow caused by the Of the rainbow. *' •' sun ^ Prud. To show that the covenant of God's grace is con- firmed to us in Christ. Matt. Why do the springs come from the sea to us, through the earth ? Prud. To show that the grace of God comes to us through the body of Christ. Matt. Why do some of the springs rise out of the tops of high hills ? Prud. To show that the spirit of grace shall spring up in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many that are poor and low. Matt. Why doth the fire fasten upon the Of the candle. ,, .in candlewick r Prud. To show that unless grace doth kindle upon the heart there will be no true light of life in us. account of numberless numbers that have not only been made to live, but to live for ever, by drinking this pure water of life. No disease comes amiss to it. It cures blindness, deafness, dumbness, deadness. This right holy water (all other is counterfeit) will drive away evil spu-its. It will make you have a white soul, and that is better than a white skin." [41] Whoever offers to purify the heart, and heal a wounded coasci^nce, by any other means, is a deceiver and a soul- 'Jgstroyer, THE PILGEIM's PKOGliESS. 273 Matt. Why is the wick and tallow, and all, spent to main- tain the light of the candle ? Peud. To show that body and soul, and all, should be at the service of, and spend themselves to maintain, in good condition, that grace of God that is in us. Matt. Why doth the pelican pierce her own ^ • 1 1 1 -11 n Of the pelican. breast with her bill r Peud. To nourish her young ones with her blood, and thereby to show that Christ the blessed so loveth his young, his people, as to save them from death by his blood. Matt. "What may one learn by hearing the •' ./ o Of the cock. cock crow z Peud. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's repent- ance. The cock's crowing shows also that day is coming on ; let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last and terrible day of judgment. Now, about this time, their month was out ; wherefore they signified to those of the house that it was convenient for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his mother. It is convenient that you forget not to send to the house of Mr, Interpreter, to pray him to grant that Mr. ^ , -, 111 , i ,^ ^ ^ Tlie weak may Great-heart should be sent unto us, that ne may sometimes cau tha be our conductor the rest of our way. Good ^ "^""^ ° prayers. boy, said she, I had almost forgot. So she drew up a petition, and prayed Mr. "Watchful, the Porter, to send it by some fit man, to her good friend Mr. Interpreter ; who, when it was come, and he had seen the contents of the petition, said to the messenger. Go tell them that I will send him. "When the family, where Christiana was, saw that they had a purpose to go forward, they called the whole house r^^^ provide toba together, to give thanks to their King for send- gone ou their way. ing of them such profitable guests as tliese. "Which done, they said to Christiana, And shall we not show thee something, according as our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art upon the way ? So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, and showed them one of the apples that Eve did eat of, and -^^^,^j^ ,ig^ that she also did give to her kiisbaud, and that 274 THE pilgeim's peogeess. for ilie eating of Avhich they both were turned out of Paradise, A si-ht of sin is ^^^ asked her what she thought that was ? Then amazing. Christiana said, It is food or poison, I know not which."" So they opened the matter to her, and she held up her hands and wondered. Gen. iii. 6 ; Eom. vii. 24. Then they had her to a place, and showed her Jacob's ladder. jSTow at that time there were some angels ascending upon it. So Christiana looked, and looked, to see the angels go up ; and so did the rest of the company. Then they were going into another place, to show them something else ; but James said to his mother. Pray bid A sight of Christ is them stay here a little longer, for this is a taking. curious sight.* So they turned again, and stood feeding their eyes with this so pleasant a prospect. Gen. xsviii. 12 ; John i. 51. After this, they had them into a place where did hang up a golden anchor, so they bid Chris- tiana take it down ; for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it is of absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of that Vidthin the veil, and stand stedi'ast, in case you should meet with turbulent weather; so they were glad thereof. Heb. vi. 19. Then they took them, and had them Of Abraham offer- to the mouut upou which Abraham our father ing up Isaac. ^^^ offered up Isaac his son, and showed tliem the altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife, for they remain to be seen to this very day.^ Gen. xxii. 9. When they had seen " How mucli is contained in that answer of Christiana as to the origin of evil — " It is food or poison, I know not which!" To believers, it willbe their elevation to a degree of bliss that they would never have otherwise enjoyed ; to the faithless it will be poison of the deadliest kind. Here is no attempt to explain the origin of evU in our world ; a subject far bej'ond all our powers of investigation. " Eve expected some sweet and pleasant sight that might tickle and delight her deluded fancy; hut behold, sin and the wrath of God appears, to the shaking of their hearts." [45] " Even as sin reigned unto death so might grace reign uuto eternal life." Eom. V. ' The ministration of angels is an animating theme to believers, and is well adapted to promote their confidence in the care and protection of God. " Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation ?" Heb. i. 14. y When Bunyan had preached one of his powerful sermons in London, a hearer offerad to take his son apprentice without premium. " Nay," said THE PILGEIil's PBOGEESS. 275 it, they held up their liands and blessed themselves, and said, Oh, what a man for love to his Master, and for denial to him- self, vras Abraham ! After they had showed them all these things, Prudence took them into the dining-room, where stood a pair of excellent virginals f so she played upon pmdence's virgi- them, and turned what she had showed them ^^ into this excellent song, saying — Ere's apple we have showed you. Of that he you aware ; You have seen Jacob's ladder, too, Upon which angels are. An anchor you received have, But let not these suffice, Until, with Abr'am, you have gave Your best a sacrifice. Now, about this time, one knocked at the door ; so the Porter opened, and behold Mr. Great-heart was there ; jir. Groat-heart but when he was come in, what joy was there ! '^°^° ^^'^''^■ For it came now fresh again into their minds, how but a while ago he had slain old Grrim Bloody-man the giant, and had de- livered them from the lions. Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana, and to Mercy, My Lord hath sent each of you a bottle of wine, and „ , . - He brings a to- also some parched corn, together with a couple ken from his Lord of pomegranates ; he has also sent the boys some figs and raisins, to refresh you in your way. Then they addressed themselves to their journey ; and Pru- dence and Piety went along with them. "When they came at the gate, Christiana asked the Porter if any of late went by ? He said. No ; only one some time since, who also told me, that of late there had been a great robbery com- ^^^^ mitted on the King's highway, as you go ; but, he said, the thieves are taken, and will shortly be tried for their Eunyan, refusing his kind offer; " I preach not to advance my family in this world." Was not this an exhibition of Abraham's fait^ ? ' Banyan had a soul for music. But he does not by this sanction the intro- duction of instrumental music into public worship. The late Abraham Booth and Andrew Fuller were extremely averse to it; others are as desirous of it. Musi"! has a great effect on the nervous system, and of all instruments the organ is tho 27G THE pilqeim's peogbess. lives." Then Christiana and Mercy were afraid ; but Matthew said, Mother, fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go with us, and to be our conductor. Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much obliged to you for all the kindnesses that you have her leave'^^of^he showed me since I came hither; and also for P°'^^'"" that you have been so loving and kind to my children ; I know not how to gratify your kindness. Where- fore, pray, as a token of my respects to you, accept of this small mite ; so she put a gold angel in his hand, and he made The Porter's ^^^ '''• ^'^'^ obeisance, and said. Let thy garments blessing-. ]yQ always white, and let thy head want no oint- ment. Let Mercy live, and not die, and let not her works be few. And to the boys he said. Do you fly youthful lusts, and follow after godliness with them that are grave and wise ; so shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, and obtain praise of all that are sober-minded. So they thanked the Porter, and departed. Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward until they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety,bethinking herself, cried out, Alas ! I have forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her companions ; I will go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way off, on the right hand, a most curious, melodious note, with words much like these — Through all my life thy favour is So frankly show'd to me, That in thy house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be. And, listening still, she thought she heard another answer it, saying- most impressive. The Christian's inquiry is, whether sensations so produced assist the soul in holding communion with the Father of spirits. " What this great robbery was, whether spiritual or temporal, is left to the reader to imagine. The sufferings of the Dissenters were awfully severe at this time. Had it been a year later, it might have referred to the sufferings of that pious woman, Elizabeth Gaunt, who was burnt, October 23, 1685. She was a Baptist, and cruelly martyred. Penn, the Quaker, saw her die. " She laid the straw about her for burning her speedily, and behaved herself in such a manner that all the spectators melted ic tears." THE PIIGEIll's PEOGEESS. Til For -wby ? The Lord our God is good. His mercy is for ever sure. His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure. So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that made those curious notes ? They are, said she, our country birds ; they sing these notes but seldom, except it be at the spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun shines warm, and then you may hear them all day long. Can. ii. 11, 12.* T often, said she, go out to hear them ; we also ofttimes keep them tame in our house. They are very fine company for us when we are melan- choly ; also they make the woods, and groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in. By this time Piety was come again ; so she said to Chris- tiana, Look here, I have brought thee a scheme „ ,- , , . . . , Piety bestoweth 01 ail those things that thou hast seen at our somethingouthem house, upon which thou mayest look when thou ^ ^^' ™^" findest thyself forgetful, and call those things again to remem- brance for thy edification and comfort." * Bunyan's description of the kingdom and Church of Christ. Matt. xiii. 32. The birds come and lodge in the branches thereof. " Such mountains round about this house do stand As one from thence may see the Holy Land. Ps. cxxv. 2. Her fields are fertile, do abound ^uth com ; The lilies fair her valleys do adorn. Ca. ii. 1. The birds that do come hither evei^ spring, For birds, they are the very best that sing. Ca. ii. 11, 12. Her friends, her neighbours too, do call her blest; Ps. xlviii. 2. Angels do here go by, turn in, and rest. Heb. xiii. 2. The road to Paradise lies by her gate. Gen. xxviii. ir, Here pilgrims do themselves accommodate With bed and board ; and do such stories tell, As do for truth and profit all excel. Nor doth the porter here say any nay, That hither would turn in, that here would stay. This house is rent free; here the man may dwell That loves his landlord, rules his passions well." [40 J ' " Forgetfulness makes things nothings. It makes us as if things had never been ; and so takes away from the soul one great means of stay, support, and en- couragement. When David was dejected, the remembrance of the hUl Hermon was his stay. When he was to go out against Goliath, the remembrance of the lion and the beai- was his support. The recovery of a backslider usually begins at the remembrance of former things." [34] 278 THE pilgeim's pkogeess. Now tb >y began to . go down the hill into the Valley of Humiliation.'^ It was a steep hill, and the way First Part, p. SS. . 1,1.^.1, ^ ' r. -, "^ was slippery ; out they were very caretul, so they got down pretty well. When they were down in the Valley, Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where Chris- tian your husband met with the foul fiend ApoUyon, and where they had that dreadful fight that they had ; I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good courage ; as long as you have here Mr. Great-heart to be your guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the better. So when these two had com- mitted the Pilgrims unto the conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went after. Geeat-heaet. Then said Mr. Great-heart, "We need not to „ ^ X ^ _x be so afraid of this Valley, for here is nothing to Mr. Great-heart . . at the Valley of hurt US, uuless we procuro it to ourselves. It is true, Christian did here meet with Apolly on, with ITS ar , p. . ^Yhom he also had a sore combat ; but that fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in his going down the hill ; for they that get slips there, must look for combats here. And hence it is that this Valley has got so hard a name ; for the common people, when they hear that some frightful thing has befallen such a one in such a place, are of an opinion, that that place is haunted with some foul fiend or evil spirit ; when, alas ! it is for the fruit of their doing, that such things do befall them there. This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place as any the crow flies over ; and I am persuaded, if The reason why iii-, •, •iji^i i ciiristian was so WO could hit upou it, We might find somewhcre csct ere. hereabouts, something that might give us an account why Christian was so hardly beset in this place. Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder stands a pillar, A pillar with an ^^^ it looks as if Something was written thereon ; inscription on it. jg^ ^g gQ r^J^^ ggg ^^hat it is. So they went, and found there written, " Let Christian's slips, before he came hither, and the battles that he met with in this place, be a ^ After having been thus highly favoured, the next step these pilgrims are to take is down the Hill Difficulty, into the Valley of Humiliation. Doth this place sig nify a deep and abiding sense of our ruined state as fallen sinners? IHE pilgeim's peogeess. 279 warning to those tlaat come after." Lo, said their guide, did not I teil you that there was something hereabouts that would give intimation of the reason why Christian was so hard beset in this place ? Then turning himself to Christiana, he said, ISTo disparagement to Christian, more than to many others whose hap and lot his was ; for it is easier going up, than down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory over his enemy ; let him grant that dwelleth above, that we fare no worse, when we come to be tried, than he. But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It is the best and most useful piece of ground in rnisvaiieyabrave all those parts. It is fat ground, and, as you P''"^'''- see, consisteth much in meadows ; and if a man was to come here in the summer-time, as we do now, if he knew not any- thing before, thereof, and if he also delighted himself in the sight of his eyes, he might see that that would be delightful to him. Behold how green this Valley is, also how beautified with lilies. Can. ii. 1. I have also known many labouring men that have got good estates in this Valley of Humiliation (" for God resisteth the proud, but gives more, more grace unto the humble," James iv. 6 ; 1 Peter v. 5), for indeed it is a very fruitful soil, and doth bring forth the vaiiey of Hu- by handfuls.* Some also have wished, that the ^ '°"* next way to their Father's house were here, that they might be troubled no more with either hills or mountains to go over but the way is the way, and there is an end. Kow, as they were going along, and talking, they espied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a very fresh and well-favoured countenance ; and as he sat by himself, he sang. Hark, said Mr. Great-heart, to • " These are the rare times ; above all, ivhen I can go to God as the Publican, sensible of his glorious majesty, sensible of my miscrj", and bear up and aflec- tionately cry, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' For my part, I find it one of the hardest things I can put my soul upon, when warmly sensible thatl am a sinner, to come to God for a share in mercj/ and grace; I cannotbut with a thousand teara Bay, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' " [3o] 2S0 THE pilgeim's peogeess. AvLat the shepherd's boy saith. So they hearkened, and he said — He that is down needs fear no fall ; He that is low, no pride ; He that is humble, ever shall Phil. iv. 12, 13. Have God to be his guide. I am content with what I have, Little be it, or much : And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because thou savest such. Fullness to such, a burden is, That go on pilgrimage; Here little, and hereafter bliss, neb. xiii. 5. Is best from age to age/ Then said the guide, Do you hear him ? I -n-ill dare to say, that this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of that herb called heart' s-ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet ; but we will proceed in our discourse. In this Valley our Lord formerly had his country house ; he „, . , , . loved much to be here : he loved also to walk Christ, when in ' the flesh, had his thcsc meadows, for he found the air was plea- Country -house in j. -rt • t i imioT. the vaUey of Hu- saut.^ Uesides, here a man shall be free from m a iou. ^^^ noise, and from the hurryings of tliis life. All states are full of noise and confusion, only the Valley of Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not be so let and hindered in his contemplation, as in other places he is apt to be. This is a Valley that nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgrim's life. And though Christian had the hard hap to meet here with Apollyon, and to enter with him a brisk encounter, yet I must tell you, that in former times men have met with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place found the words of life. Hos. xii. 4,5. Did I say, our Lord had here in former days his country- / The humble man is contented; if his estate be low, his heart is lower stiU. Those circumstances that will not disturb a humble man's sleep, wiU break a proud man's heart. «■ Some are banished into this valley, bnt the poor in spirit love to walk in it; jvnd though some believers here struggle with distressing temptations, others, ia passing through it, enjoy much communion with God. THE PILGEIII'S PEOGEESB. 281 house, and tliat he loved here to walk ? I will add, in this place, and to the people that live, and trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid them at certain seasons, for their maintenance by the way, and for their further encou- ragement to go on in their pilgrimage. Matt. xi. 29. Samuel.' Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great- heart, Sir, I perceive that in this Valley my father and Apollyon had their battle ; but whereabout was the fight ? for I perceive this Valley is large. Geeat-heaet. Tour father had that battle with Apollyon at a place yonder before us, in a narrow passage, just beyond Forgetful Green.* And indeed, that place is the most dangerous place in all these parts. For if at any time the pilgrims meet with any brunt, it is when they for- get what favours they have received, and how unworthy they are of them.* This is the place also, where others have been hard put to it ; but more of the place when we are come to it ; for I persuade myself, that to this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monument to testify that such a battle there was fought. Meect. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this Valley as I have been anywhere else in all our journey ; the place, me- thinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be iu Humility a such places where there is no rattling with sv^eet grace. coaches, nor rumbling with wheels ; methinks, here one may, without much molestation, be thinking what he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the King has called him ; here one may think, and break at heart, and melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become like " the fish-pools of Heshbon." '' " It is marvellous to see how some men are led captive by forgetfuLness. Those that some time thought no pains too much, no way too far, no hazards too great to run for eternal life, become as if they had never thought of such things. Should one say to some — Art not tliou that man I saw crying out under a sermon, ' What shall I do to be saved?' that I heard speak well of the holy Word of God? how askew they will look upon one. Or if they acknowledge that such things were with them once, they do it more like dejected ghosts than as men." [34] • O pilgrim, beware of Forgetful Green. Do not forget that you are still a sinner — poor, needy, and wretched ; and that thou wantest the righteousness of Christ to justify you, an 1 the Spirit of Christ to keep you humble. S 2S2 THE PILOEIM'S PKOGRIISS. Can. vii. 4. They that go rightly throngli this Valley of Baca, make it a well, the rain that Grod sends down from heaven upon them that are here, also fiUeth the pools. Ps. Ixxxiv. 6, 7. This Valley is that from whence also the King will give to his their vineyards, Hos. ii. 15 ; and they that go through it shall sing, as Christian did, for all he met with ApoUyon. Gbeat-heart. It is true, said their guide, I have gone An experiment of through this A^alley many a time, and never was ^^- better than when here. I have also been a conductor to several pilgrims, and they have confessed the same, " To this man will I look (saith the King), even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." Is. Isvi. 2J Now they were come to the place where the afore-menfcioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, her chil- dren, and Mercy, This is the place, on this ground Christian stood, and up there came ApoUyon against him. The place where , , , t, -r o tt • <• Christian and the And look, did not I tell you : Here is some ot Some signs oAhe youT husband's blood upon these stones to this battle remain. ^^^ . behold, also, how here and there are yet to be seen upon the place, some of the shivers of Apollyon's - broken darts ; see also how they did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to make good their places against each other ; how also, with their by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces. Verily, Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as stout, as could, had he been there, even Hercules himself. When ApoUyon was beat, he made his re- treat to the next Valley, that is called the Valley of the Shadow of Death, unto which we shall come anon.* Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which is engraven A monument of ^his battle, and Christian's victory, to his fame the battle. throughout all agcs. So, because it stood just J " Trembles at God's Word," so as not to dare pick and choose whicli doctrines he will receive, and which reject. Are not aU his ways and doctrines stamped ■with the same Divine sanction? * We ought to study the temptations, conflicts, faith, patience, and victories of believers ; and mark their wounds, that we may watch and pray lest >ve suflFer in like manner. THE pilguim's pbogeess. 283 on the wayside before them, they stepped to it, aud read the writing, which word for word was this — Hard by, here was a battle fought, Most strange, and yet most true ;' Christian and ApoUyon sought Each other to subdue. A monument of The man so bravely play'd the man, Clu-istian'svictory He made the fiend to fly ; Of which a monument I stand, The same to testify. "Wlien they had passed by this place, they came upon the borders of the Shadow of Death ; and this ^. ^ „ ^ First Part, p. 94. Valley was longer than the other ; a place, also, most strangely haunted with evil things, as many are able to testify ; but these women and children went the better through it because they had daylight, and because Mr. Great-heart was their conductor. When they were entered upon this Valley, they thought that they heard a groaning, as of dead men, [men ^ . ^ ^ . °- T ?' . Groamngs heard. m the agonies ot deathj a very great groaning. They thought, also, they did hear words of lamentation spoken, as of some in extreme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the women also looked pale and wan ; but their guide bid them be of good comfort. So they went on a little further, and they thought that they felt the ground begin to shake under them, as The ground if some hollow place was there ; they heard shakes. also a kind of a hissing, as of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then said the boys. Are we not yet at the end of this doleful place ? But the guide also bid them be of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest haply, said he, you be taken in some snare."* ' If this monument refers to the experience of Bunyan, as exhibited in his Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, it is well called, "Most strange, and yet most true." •" No one knows the distress, anguish, and fear that haunt pilgrims in this valley, but those who have been in it. The injections of that old serpent, with all his infernal malice, seem to be let loose upon pilgrims in this valley. Asnph was walking in this valley when he said, " As for me, my feet were almost gone, my steps had well nigh slipped." 284 THE pilgrim's peooeess. Now James began to be sick, but I think the cause thereof James sick with '^^^ fear ; SO his mother gave him some of that fear. glass of Spirits that she had given her at the Interpreter's house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepared, and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on, till they came to about the middle of the Valley, and then „, „. , Christiana said, Methinks I see something; The Fiend appears. i i i f . r yonder upon the road before us, a thing of such a shape such as I have not seen. Then said Joseph, Mother, what is it ? An ugly thing, child ; an ugly thing, said The Pilgrims are shc. But, mother, what is it like ? said he. It afraid. |g j^'j^g J cannot tell what, said she. And now it was but a little way off; then said she, It is nigh. Well, well, said Mr. Great-heart, Let them that are most Great-heart encou- afraid, keep closc to me. So the fiend came on, rages them. ^^^ ^|jg couductor met it ; but when it was just come to him, it vanished to all their sights. Then remembered they what had been said some time ago, " Eesist the devil, and he will flee from you." James iv. 7. They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but they had not gone far, before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she thought, something most like a lion, and it came a great padding pace after; and it had a hollow voice of roaring ; and at every roar that it gave, it made all the Valley echo, and their hearts to ache, save the heart of him that was their gviide. So it came up ; and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the Pilgrims all before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him battle. But when he saw that it was de- termined that resistance should be made, he also drew back, and came no further." 1 Peter v. 8, 9. Then they went on again, and their conductor did go before A pit and dark- them, till they came at a place where was cast ^®^^- up a pit the whole breadth of the way ; and, before they could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and darkness fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then " Satan is often most dreadful at a distance, and, courageously resistei, will not advance near to molest the pilgrim. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 285 said tlie Pilgrims, Alas ! now wliat shall we do ? But their guide made answer, Fear not, stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also. So they stayed there, because their path was marred. They then also thought that they did hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies ; the fire, also, and the smoke of the pit, was much easier to be discerned." Then said Christiana to Mercy, OliristiiuSi COW Xow I see what my poor husband went through ; knows what Lier II 1 1 1 J? J.T • 1 tj_t husband felt. have heard mu^h oi this place, but 1 never was here before now. Poor man, he went here all alone in the night ; he had night almost quite through the way ; also, these fiends were busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none can tell what the Yalley of the Shadow of Death should mean, until they come in it themselves. " The heart knows its own bitterness, and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." To be here is a fearful thing. Geeat-heaet. This is like doing business in great waters, or like going down into the deep ; this is like Great-heart's being in the heart of the sea, and like going reply. down to the bottoms of the mountains ; now it seems as if the earth, with its bars, were about us for ever. But let them that walk in darkness, and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their God. Isa. 1. 10.^ For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often through this Valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am, and yet you see I am alive, I would not boast, for that I am not mine own saviour ; but I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for light to him that can lighten our dark- ness, and that can rebuke not only these, but all the Satans in Lell. So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliver- ance, for there was now no let in their way ; no not there, where but now they were stopped ^yp'^y- » Miserable walking, with a pit before us, and darkness around, yea, within us who have been left to the darkness of our mature, the terrors of a fiery law, the sense of guilt, and the fear of hell ! P This text has been a sheet anclior to many a soul under darkness and dis- fr.eBS. There is an amazing depth of grace, and a wonderful height of mercy in it. 286 THE PILGEIil's PROGRESS. ■with a pit. Yet they were cot got through the Valley ; so they went on still, and behold great stinks and loathsome smells, to the great annoyance of them.? Then said Mercy to Christiana, There is not such pleasant being here as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the house where we lay last. Oh, but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to go through One of the boy's l^s^e as it is to abide here always; and for reply. aught I kuow, ono reason why we must go this way to the house prepared for us, is, that our home might be made the sweeter to us. "Well said, Samuel, quoth the guide, thou hast now spoke like a man. Why, if ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I did in all my life. Then said the guide, "We shall be out by and by. So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the end of this Valley as yet ? Then said the guide, Look to your feet, for you shall presently be among the snares. So they looked to their feet, and went on ; but they were troubled much with the snares. Now, when they were come among the snares, they espied a man cast into the ditch on the left liand, with his flesh all rent and torn. Then said the guide, That is one Heedless, that was agoinp: this way ; he has Heedless is slain . . and Take-heed lain there a great while. There was one Take- pieserve . heed with him, when he was taken and slain ; but he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine how many ^are killed hereabout, and yet men are so foolishly venturous, as to set out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a guide. Poor Christian ! it was a wonder that he here escaped; but he was beloved of his God : also, he had a good heart of his own,*" or else he could never have done it. Now they drew towards the end of the way ; and 1 What must the pure and holy Jesus have suffered when he tasted death in ALL its hittemess? His soul was in an agony. Hell was let loose upon Him. This is your hour, said he, and the power of darhness, when he cried out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" And all for our salvation. What uhall v/e render to the Lord for all his benefits? ^ By a good ';eai-t is here meant, that Christian was endued with boldness and THE PILGBIil's PE0GEES3. 287 just tliere wtere Christian had seen the cave when he went by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This Maul did use to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry; and he called G-reat-heart by his name, and said unto him, How many times have you been for- ^e quairois with bidden to do these things ? Then said Mr. Great-heart. Great-heart, "What things ? What things ? quoth the giant ; you know what things ; but I will put an end to your trade. But pray, said Mr. Great-heart, before we fall to it, let us understand wherefore we must fight. Now the women and children stood trembling, and knew not what to do. Quoth the giant, You rob the country, and rob it with the worst of thefts.* These are but generals, said Mr. Great-heart ; come to particulars, man. Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a kid- napper : thou gatherest up women and children, ^^ . ° . -*■ God's ministers and earnest them into a strange country, to the comitcd as kid- weakening of my master's kingdom. But now ^^pp'^'"^" Great-heart replied, I am a servant of the God of heaven ; my business is to persuade sinners to repentance ; I am commanded to do my endeavour to turn men, women, and children, " from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God;" and if this be indeed the ground Mr. Great-heart of thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon as thou ™^ ^ wilt. courage from above ; as the Psalmist says, "Wait on the Lord, be of good courage and he shall strengthen thine heart." ' Satan's master argument is, Thou art a horrible sinner, a hj'pocrite, cne that has a profane heart, and one that is an utter stranger to a work of grace. 1 say this is his Maul, his ciub, his master-piece. He doth -with this as some do by their most enchanting songs, sings them everywhere. I believe there are but few saints in the world that have not had this temptation sounding in their ears. But were they but aware, Satan by all this does but drive them to the gap, out at which they should go, and so escape his roaring. Saith he, Thou art a gi-eat sinner, a horrible sinner, a profane-hearted wretch, one that cannot be matched for a vile one in the country. The tempted may say. Aye, Satan, so I am, a sinner of the biggest size, and, therefore, have most need of Jesus Christ; yea, because I am such a wretch Jesus calls me FIEST. I am he, wherefore stand back, Satan, make a lane; my right is first to come to Jesus Christ. This, now, would be like for Uke ; this would foil tlie devil : this would make him say, I must not deal with this man thus; for then I put a sword into his hand to cut ott my head. [38] 288 THE pilquim's peogeess. Then the giant came up, and Mr. Grreat-heart went to meet him ; and as he went, he drew his sword, but the giant had a club. So without more ado, they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great-heart down upon one of his knees ; Weak folks' """^^^ *^^^ *^^ women and children cried out ; so prayers do some- -^^j. Grpeat-heart recovering himself, laid about times help strong o ' folks' cries. j^ii^ {^ fuU lustj manner, and gave the giant a wound in his arm ; thus he fought for the space of an hour, to that height of heat, that the breath came out of the giant's nostrils, as the heat doth out of a boiling caldron. Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Grreat-heart betook him to prayer ; also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last.' When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both fell to it again," and Mr. Grreat-heart, with a full blow, fetched The giant struck tbc giant dowu to the ground. Nay, hold, and down. Iqj- jj^g recover, quoth he ; so Mr. Grreat-heart fairly let him get up. So to it they went again, and the giant missed but little of all-to-breaking Mr. Grreat-heart' s skull with his club, Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat of his spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib ; with that the giant began to faint, and could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smote the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then the women and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God, for the deliver- ance he had wrought. * " Being made to understand what great sinners the Lord hath had mercy upon, made me, through tlie assistance of his Holy Spirit, to cleave to him, and yet to cry, though for the present tliere was no answer. The Lord make all his poor, tempted, afflicted people to do the like." « The severity of Job's sufiferings probably suggested to the author, the idea of taking rest during the conflict. " How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?" Here is no timidly mincing the matter; but a manful, prayerful, fighting it out. When Bunyan was threatened that he should be hung, if he preached again without a licence from the king, he said, " I told him, as to this matter, I was at a point with him : for if I was out of prison to-day, I would preach thegospelagainto-morrow, by thehelpof God." [60] How little did he then think, that after twelve years' imprisonment, the king's licence to preach would be sent to him, even while in jail. T^E PILGEIil's PE0GEES3. 289 "When this was done, they among tliem erected a pillar, and fastened the giant's head thereon, and wrote He is slain, and anderneath in letters, that passengers might off ^* '^^''^^ read — He that did wear this head, was one Tliat pilgrims did misuse ; He stopp'd their way, ho spared none, But did them all abuse ; Until that I, Great-heart, arose, The pilgrim's guide to be ; Until that I did him oppose, That was their enemy. Now I saw, that they went to the ascent that was a little way off, cast up to be a prospect for pilgrims (that was the place from whence Christian had the first sight of Eaithful his brother) ; wherefore here they sat down, and rested ; they also here did eat and drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy." As they sat thus, and did eat, Christiana asked the guide if he had caught no hurt in the battle. Then said Mr. Great-heart, No, save a little on my flesh ; yet that also shall be so far from being to my detriment, that it is at present a proof of my love to my Master and you, and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my reward at last, 2 Cor. iv. ChEIS. But was you not afraid, good Sir, Discourse of tha when you saw him come out with his club ?"" ^^^^' Geeat-heaet. It is my duty, said he, to distrust my own ability, that I may have reliance on him that is stronger than all. CnEis. But what did you think when he fetched you downi to the ground at the first blow ? " Well may Giant Maul, with his sophistry, be called a dangerous enemy. Many of this tribe are mentioned in the Holy War, as Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, the Lord Murmur, and one Clip-promise, a notorious villain. These lords felt the edge of Lord Will be-will's sword, for which his Prince Im- manuel honoured him. Clip-promise was set in the pillory, whipped, and hanged. One clipper-of-promise does gi-eat abuse to Mansoul in a little time. " Human power, under which many godly ministers, in the seventeenth century, Buffered greatly. 290 THE PILGmiM's proghess. Great. HEAUT. Why, I thouglit, quoth he, that so my Master himself was served, and yet he it was that conquered at the last. Matt. "When you all have thought what you please, I think ifatthew here ^^^ ^^^^ '^^^'^ wonderful good unto us, botli in admires Goodness, ■bringing US out of this Valley, and in delivering lis out of the hand of this enemy ; for my part, I see no reason why we should distrust our Grod any more, since he has now, and in such a place as this, given us such testimony of his love as this. Then they got up and went forward. Now a little before Old Honest asleep t^^m stood an oak ; and under it, when they under an oak. ^.^^^q ^q i^,^ i]^qj found an old pilgrim fast asleep ; they knew that he was a pilgrim by his clothes, and his staff, and his girdle. So the guide, Mr. Great-heart, awaked him, and the old gentleman, as he lift up his eyes, cried out, "What's the matter ? "Who are you ? and what is your business here ? Great-heart. Come, man, be not so hot, here are none but friends : yet the old man gets up, and stands upon his guard, and will know of them what they were. Then said the guide, My name is Great-heart ; I am the guide of these pilgrims, which are going to the Celestial Country. HoBTEST. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy ; I feared . , that you had been of the company of those One saint some- •' . -i t • i /• •,! f> i • times takes ano- that some time ago did rob JLittle-iaith oi his ther for his enemy. t i i i j.i, v i. t money ; but now 1 look better about me, 1 per- ceive you are honester people. Talk between Great-heart. "Why, what would, or could Great-heart and ho. yQ-^ jj^^yg done, to havc helped yourself, if wo indeed had been of that company ? Hon. Done ! why I would have fought as long as breath had been in me ; and had I so done, I am sure you could never have given me the worst on it ; for a Christian can never be overcome, unless he should yield of himself.* ' The character of Honesty is beautifully drawn by a masterly hand. The aged pilgrim, worn out with fatigue, can say without fear, " I laid me down and slept; THE pilgeim's peogeess. 291 Geeat-heaet. "Well said, father Honest, quotb tlae guide ; for by this I know thou art a cock of tke right kind, for thou hast said the truth. Hon. And by this, also, I know that thou knowest what true pilgrimage is ; for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of any. Geeat-heaex. "NYell, now we are so happily met, pray let me crave your name, and the name of the place whence Mr. you came from. ^""^^^^ <=^°^°- Ho>'. My name I cannot; but I came from the town of Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond the City of Destruction. Gebat-heaet. Oh ! are you that countryman, then ? I deem I have half a guess of you ; your name is Old Honesty, is it not? So the old gentleman blushed, and said, jSTofc Honesty, in the abstract,^' but Honest is my name ; and I wish that my nature shall agree to what I am called. Hon. But, Sir, said the old gentleman, how could you guess that I am such a man, since I came from such a place ? Geeat-heaet. I had heard of you before, by my Master ; for he knows all things that are done on the earth ; but I have often wondered that any should come from your „ -' . , "~. Stupincdonesara place, for your town is worse than is the City worse than those of Destruction itself. Hon. Yes, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and senseless ; but was a man in a mountain of ice, yet if the Sun of Righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen heart shall feel a thaw ; and thus it hath been with me. Geeat-ueaet. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it ; for I know the thing is true. Then the old gentleman saluted all the Pilgrims with a holy I awaked; for the Lord sustained me." He blushed when his name was men- tioned, and proved to be a most valuable acquisition to the pilgrim party. y By honesty, in the abstract, he means to distinguish between his earnest de- sire to be honest, and a perfect character. Every Christian is honest, upright, and sincere ; yet when we come to describe these viilues in their strict purity, where is the Christian but must wear the conscientious blush, as Honesty did, under a sense of his imperfections ? 292 THE piLanin's ruoGUESs. kiss of charity ;* and asked tliem of their names, and be W they had fared since they set out on their pilgrimage. Cheis. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose, you have Old Honest and heard of ; good Christian was my husband, and Christiana talk, these four VTere bis children. But can you think bow the old gentleman was taken, when she told him Avho she was ! He skipped, be smiled, and blessed them with a thousand good wishes, saying : HoK . I have beard much of your husband, and of bis travels and wars, which be underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband rings over all these parts of the world : his faith, bis courage, bis enduring, and bis sincerity under all, has made his name famous. Then he He also talks turned him to the boys, and asked them of witii the boys Old ^heir names, which they told him. And then Mr. Honest s Dies- . sing on them. gaid he unto them : Matthew, be thou like Matthew the publican, not in vice, but in virtue. Matt. x. 3. Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Psa. xcix. 6. Joseph, said be, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that flies from temptation. Gen. xxxix. And James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord. Acts i. ] 3, 14, He biesseth Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had jiercy. jgf^; j^gj, town and her kindred to come along with Christiana and with her sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy name ; by Mercy shalt thou be sus- tained, and carried through all those difficulties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither, where thou shalt look the Fountain of Mercy in the face with comfort. All this while the guide, Mr. Q-reat-heart, was very much pleased, and smiled upon bis companion. Now, as they walked along together, the guide asked the old * However tliis custom may have been innocent in the oriental scenes of apostolic labours, it has been very properly discontinued in later ages, unless it be as in the case of ou) Honest, or the unexpected meeting of very dd friends find relatives. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 293 gentleman, if he did not know one Mr. Eearing, rp^^^ ^^^^^ jjj._ that came on pilgrimage out of his parts ? Fearing. HoK. Tes, very well, said he. He was a man that had the root of the matter in him ; but he was one of the most trouble- some pilgrims that ever I met with in all my days." Geeat-heaet. I perceive you knew him ; for you have given a veiy right character of him. Hon. Knew him ! I was a great companion of his ; I was with him most an end ; when he first began to think of what would come upon us hereafter, I was with him. Geeat-heaet. I was his guide from my Master's house to the gates of the Celestial City. HoK. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one. Geeat-heaet. I did so, but I could very well bear it ; for men of my calling are oftentimes intrusted with the conduct of such as he was. Hon. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed himself under your conduct. Geeat-heaet. Why, he was always afraid that he should come short of whither he had a desire to go. ,^ ■,. . , o Mr. Fcannga Everything frightened him that he heard any- troublesome pu- body speak of, that had but the least appearance of opposition in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the Slough of Despond for about a month together ; nor 1 , 1 J. 1, 1 1 1 ^ His behaviour durst he, lor all he saw several go over before at the siough of him, venture, though they, many of them, "^^^'^ ' ofiered to lend him their hand. He would not go back again neither.* The Celestial City, he said, he should die if he came not to it ; and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and stumbled " Fearing believers have the root of the matter in thera; and none are more entitled to the patient, sympathizing, and tender attention of ministers and Christians. "Art thou small in grace, small in gifts, and in esteem, on this account? yet if thou fearest God indeed, thou art certainly blessed with the best of saints. The least star stands as fixed in the heavens as the biggest of them all. ' He shall bless them that fear him, small and great.* The small are first named, so in the day of judgment Christ owneth the least." [24] * We cannot but admire the variety of experiences introduced into the Pilgrim's Progress. Many have died remarkably happy in the Lord, who, till very near their last moments, have been in bondage through the fear of death, 294 THE pilgrim's rEOGEESS. at every straw that anybody cast iu his way. Well, after ha had lain at the Slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshine morning, I do not know how, he ven- tured, and so got over ; hut when he was over, he would scarce believe it. He had, I think, a Slough of Despond in his mind ; a slough that he carried everywhere with him, or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate, j'ou know what I mean, that stands at the head of this way ; and His behaviour at tlicre also he stood a good while, before he the gate. 'would advcuture to knock. "When the gate was opened, he would give back, and give place to others, and say that he was not wortliy. For, for all he got before some to the gate, yet many of tliem went in before him. There the poor man would stand, shaking and shrinking. I dare say it would have pitied one's heart to have seen him ; nor would he go back again. At last, he took the hammer that hanged on the gate in his hand, and gave a small rap or two ; then one opened to him, but he shrank back as before. He that opened stepped out after him, and said. Thou trembling one, what wantest thou ? With that he fell down to the ground. He that spoke to him wondered to see him so faint. So he said to him. Peace be to thee ; up, for I have set open the door to thee. Come in, for thou art blessed. With that he got up, and went in trembling ; and when he Avas in, he was : ashamed to show his face. Well, after he had been enter- tained thei'e awhile, as you know how the manner is, he was • bid go on his M'ay, and also told the way he should take. So he came till he came to our house. But as he behaved i „. , , . , himself at the gate, so he did at my master the ' His behaviour at _ o ' j ^ . the Interpreter's interpreter's door. He lay thereabout in the . cold a good while, before he would adventure i to call ; yet he would not go back, and the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my master, to receive him and grant him the comfort of his house, and also to allow him a stout and valiant conductor, because he was himself so chicken-hearted a man; and yet, for all that, he was afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man ! he was almost starved. The Pilgrims see the boy feeding his father's sheep, in tlie Valley of Humiliation.—?. 295. THE PILGEIM'S PB0Q2ESS. ti95 Yea, so great -was his dejection, that though he saw several others, for knocking, get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last I think, I looked out of the window, and perceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I went out to him, and asked what he was ; but, poor man ! the water stood in his eyes ; so I perceived what he wanted. I went, therefore, in and told it in the house, and we showed the thing to our Lord. So he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in : but, I dare say, I had hard work to do it. At last he came in ; and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it Howhewasentcr- wonderfuUy lovingly to him. There were but tamed there. few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid upon his trencher. Then he presented the note, and my Lord looked thereon, and said his desire should be granted. So, when he had been there a good while, he seemed to get He la a nttia some heart, and to be a little more comfortable ; thriSterpreter\ for my master, you* must know, is one of very ^°''^'^- tender bowels, especially to them that are afraid ; wherefore he carried it so towards him as might tend most to his encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfortable things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went before him ; but the man was but of few words, only he would sigh aloud. AVhen we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, lie said that he doubted that that would be his ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^ end also. Only he seemed glad when be saw ^ffj^l^bSohe?,^ the Cross and the Sepulchre. There, I confess, when ho saw the ' T 1 11 cross. he desired to stay a little to look, and he seemed, for a while after, to be a little cheery. When we came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions ; for you must know that his trouble was not about such things as those ; his fear was about his acceptance at last. I got him in at the House Beautiful, I think, before he waa willing. Also, when he was in, I brought him Bumpish nt the acquainted with the damsels that were of the ^^use Beautiful. 29G THE pilgeim's pbogeess. place ; but he was ashamed to make himself much for com- pany. He desired much to be alone, yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it. He also loved much to see ancient things, and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me afterwards that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came last, to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter, but that he durst not be so bold to ask. "When we went also from the House Beautiful, down the „ , J hill, into the Valley of Humiliation, he went He went down ' *' • t p j? into, and was very dowH as Well as evcr I saw man m my life ; lor pleasant in the -, , i ^ i • i i. x. VaUey of Humiiia- he carcd uot how mean he was, so he might be ™" bappy at last. Tea, I think, there was a kind of a sympathy betwixt that valley and him ; for I never saw him better in all his pilgrimage than when he was in that valley. Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. Lajn. iii. 27 — 29. He would now be up every morning by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro in this valley. But when he was come to the entrance of the Valley of the „ , , ^ Shadow of Death, I thought I should have lost Much perplesed ' ° in the Valley of the my man ; not for that he had any inclination to go back ; that he always abhorred ; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh ! the hobgoblins will have me ! the hobcoblins will have me ! cried he, and I could not beat him out on it. He made such a noise and such an outcry here, that, had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon us.'' But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as quiet while he went through it, as ever I knew it before or since. I suppose these enemies here had now a special check "^ " O what a time of need is the day of death, when I am to pack up all, to he gone from hence ; now a man gi-ows near the borders of eternity ; he sees into the skirts of the nest world. Now death is death, and the gi-ave the grave indeed. Has he laid up grace for this day, while cold death strokes his hand over his face, and over his heart, and is turning his blood into jelly: while strong death is loosing his silver cord, and breaking his golden bowl?" [52] Can a great-hearted saint wonder that Mr Fearing was at his wit's end ? THE pilgrim's peogeess. 297 from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over it. It would be too tedious to teU you of aE. "We will, there- fore, only mention a passage or two more. "When he was come at Vanity Fair, I thought he would have His behaviour at fought wdth aU the men at the fair. I feared VamtyFair. there we should both have been knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the Enchanted Ground he was also very wakeful. But when he was come at the river, where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said, he should be drowned for ever, and so never see that face with comfort that he had come so many miles to behold. And here, also, I took notice of what was very remarkable ; the water of that river was lower at this tune than ever I saw it in all my life. So he went over at last, not much above wet-shod. When he was going up to the gate, Mr. Great- heart began to take his leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above. So he said, I shall, I shall, ^jg tjoi^ucss at Then parted we asunder, and I saw him no more. last. Hon. Then, it seems, he was well at last. Geeat-heaet. Tes, yes ; I never had doubt about him ; he was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome to himself, and so troublesome to others. Psa. Ixxxviii. He was, above many, tender of siu. He was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he often would deny himself of that which was la^^-ful, because he would not offend. Eom. xiv. 21 ; 1 Cor. viii. 13. Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be aU his days so much in the dark.'' Geeat-heaet. There are two sorts of reasons for it : One '' " We know the least appearance of a sin better by its native hue, than we know n grace of the Spirit. Sin is sooner felt in its bitterness upon a sanctified soul than is the grace of God. Sin is dreadful and murderous in the sight of a sanc- tified soul. Grace lies deep in the hidden part, but sin floats above in the flesh and is easier seen. Grace, as to quantit}', seems less than sin. What is leaven or a grain of mustard seed, to the bulky lump of a body of death? It is a rara thing for some Christians to see their graces, but a thing very common for sucb to see their sins, to the shaking of their souls." [51] 298 THE pilgeim's pkogeess. is, the wise Grod will liave it so ; some must pipe Rcfisons wliv good men are so aud some must weep. Matt. xi. 16 — IS. Now ^ ° ■ Mr. Eearing was one tliat played upon this bass; lie and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than the notes of other music are ; though, indeed, some say the bass is the ground of music. Aud, for my part, I care not at all for that profession that begins not in heavi- ness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches is the bass, when he intends to put all in tune. God also plays upon this string first, when he seta the soul in tune for himself. Only here was the imperfection of Mr. Peariug, he could play upon no other music but this, till towards his latter end.* I make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the wits of young readers ; and because, in the book of the Eevelations, the saved are compared to a company of musicians that play upon their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne. Kev. viii, 2 ; xiv. 2, 3. Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what relation you have given of him ; difiiculties, lions, or Vanity Pair, he feared not at all. It was only sin, death, and hell that was to him a terror, because he had some doubts aboxit his interest in that celestial country. Geeat-heaet. You say right. Those were the things that were his troublers, and they, as you have well A close about him. ■• ^ /> j_i i i? i • ■ i observed, arose Irom the weakness oi ms mma thereabout, not from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a pilgrim's life. I dare believe that, as the proverb is, "he could have bit a firebrand, had it stood in his way;" but the things with which he was oppressed, no man ever yet could shake off with ease. Cheis. Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. Eearing Christiana's sen- ^^^ douc me good. I thought uobody had been tence. ^^^ j^g . -j^^^ j ggg there was some semblance * This is an every-day character, delicately and accurately drawn, a man that " carried the Slough of Despond in his mind everywhere with him," from doubts lest sin, death, and hell, should prevail over them. They walk safely, howevfii iorrowfuHy ; and seldom give the enemy an occasion to rejoice. THE pilgmm's peogeess. 299 betwixt tHs good man and I ; only we differed in two things : Ms troubles were so great, tbey brake out ; but mine I kept within. His, also, lay so hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for entertain- ment ; but my trouble was always such as made me knock the louder. Meect. If I might also speak my heart, I must say, that something of him has also dwelt in me ; for I T_ r i?-jj?j.iii Til Mercy's sentence. have ever been more airaid oi the lake, and the loss of a place in Paradise, than I have been of the loss of other things. Oh, thought I, may I have the happiness to have a habitation there, it is enough, though I part with all the world to win it ! Matt. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was far from having that within Matthew's seu- me that accompanies salvation ; but if it was *'®'^°^- so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me ? James. No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always grace where there is the fear of heU, yet, to be sure, there is no grace where there is no fear of God. Geeat-heaet. "Well said, James, thou hast hit the mark ; for the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom ; and, to be sure, they that want the beginning have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell. Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, and wast afraid Of doing anything, while here, That would have thee betray'd. Their farewell And didst thou fear tlie lake and pit ? ^^o^^ l^'m. Would others did so too ! For, as for them that want thy wit, They do themselves undo, Now I saw that they still went on in their talk ; for after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. Honest becran to tell them of another, but his name was Tr IP •!■. TT 1 1 , • ^r i -i Of Mr. Sclf-wiU. Mr. Soli-will. He pretended himseli to be a pa- 300 THE pilgeim's PKOaBESg. grim, said Mr. Honest ; but I persuade myself lie never came in at tlie gate that stands at the head of the way. Grbat-heaet. Had you ever any talk with him about it? Hon", Yes, more than once or twice ; but he would always Old Honest had ^^ ^^^^ himself, self-wiUed. He neither cared talked with him. fgj, n^an^ ^or argu""ient, nor yet example ; what his mind prompted him to do, that he would do, and nothing else could he be got to. GrREAT-HEAET. Pray, what principles did he hold ? for I suppose you can teU. Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues of the pilgrims ; and that if he did Self-will's opinions. ,,,, , t ■,■,,• ^ -, both, he should be certainly saved. Geeat-heart. How ! if he had said, It is possible for the best to be gvilty of the vices, as well as to partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed ; for indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on con- dition that we watch and strive. But this, I perceive, is not the thing ; but if I understand you right, your meaning is, that he was of that opinion, that it was allowable so to be. HoK. Aye, aye, so I mean; and so he believed and prac- tised. GrEEAT-HEAET. But what ground had he for his so saying ? Hon. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant. Geeat-heaet. Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars. Hon. So I will. He said. To have to do with other men's vdves had been practised by David, God's beloved ; and there- fore he could do it. He said. To have more women than one, was a thing that Solomon practised ; and therefore he could do it. He said. That Sarah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did save Eahab ; and therefore he could do it. He said, That the disciples went at the bidding of their Master, and took away the owner's ass ; and therefore he could do so too. He said, That Jacob got the inheritance of his father in the way of guile and dissimulation ; and therefore he could do BO l:)o. THE pilgeim's pbogeess. 301 G-REAT-HEAET. Highly base, indeed ! And you are sure he was of this opinion ? Hox. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, briug argument for it, &c. Geeat-heaet. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the world. Hex. Tou must understand me rightly. He did not say that any man might do this ; but that those that had the virtues of those that did such things, might also do the same. Geeat-heaet. But what more false than such a conclusion? j"or this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind; or i^, because a child by the blast of the wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down, and defiled itself in mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. "Who could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust ? But what is written must be true : They " stumble at the Avord, being disobedient ; whereunto also they were appointed." 1 Peter ii. 8. His supposing that such may have the godly men's virtues, who addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as strong as the other. It is just as if the dog should say, I have, or may have, the qualities of the child, because I lick up its stinking excrements. To eat up the sin of God's people, is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues. Hos. iv. 8. Kor can I believe, that one that is of this opinion can at present have faith or love in him. But I know you have made strong objections against him ; prithee, what can he say for himself ?/ Hon. Why, he says. To do this by way of opinion, seems abundance more honest than to do it, and yet hold contrary to it in opinion. Geeat-heaet. A very wicked answer; for though to let loose the bridle to lusts, while our opinions are against such / It is a horrible and blasphemous perversion of Scripture, to take encourage- tient in sin, from those sad examples of it in the saints, which are held up, t.i ienorem, as so many beacons by which we may avoid the same. 302 THE PILGEIM's BIlOGli£SS. things, is bad ; yet, to sin, and plead a toleration so to do. ia worse. The one stumbles beholders accidentally, the other pleads them iato the snare. HojST. There are many of this man's mind, that have not this man's mouth : and that make going on pilgrimage of so little esteem as it is. GrKEAT-nEART. Tou havB said the truth, and it is to be lamented; but he that feareth the King of Paradise, shall come out of them all. Cheis. There are strange opinions in the world ; I know one that said, It was time enough to repent when they come to dies' GrEEAT-HEAET. Such are not over wise. That man would have been loath, might he have had a week to run twenty mUes in for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last hour of that week. Hon. Tou say right ; and yet the generality of them, that count themselves pilgrims, do indeed do thus. I am, as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many a day ; and I have taken notice of many things. I have seen some that have set out as if they would drive all the world afore them, who yet have, in few days, died as they in the wilderness, and so never got sight of the promised land. I have seen some that have promised nothing at first setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought could not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims. I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again have, after a little time, run as fast just back again. I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pilgrim's life at first, that, after a while, have spoken as much against it. s It may be seriously inquired as to whether in all Satan's temptations, any one is so fatal to immortal souls as the idea of putting off repentance to a death-bed. Have not prayers against sudden death a tendency to obstruct that daily walk with God, which alone can fit us to meet the king of terrors? When heart and strength fail ; when the body is writhing in agony, or lying an insensible lump of mortality . is that the time to make peace with God ? No, my reader, life is the time to serve the Lord, the time to insure the great reward. Sudden death is a release from miich pain and anxiety. It is the most merciful gate by which we can enter upca immortality. THE pilgeim's peogesss. 303 I bave heard some, when they first set out for Paradise, say positively there is such a place; who, when they have been almost there, have come back again, and said there is none. I have heard some vaunt what they would do, in ease they should be opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim's way, and all.* Now, as they were thus in their way, there came one run- ning to meet them, and said. Gentlemen, and Fresh news of you of the weaker sort, if you love life, shift for *'^°^'=^®- yourselves, for the robbers are before you.* GrEEAT-HEAET, Then Said Mr. Grreat-heart, They be the three that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, First Part, said he, we are ready for them ; so they went p- ^^'*- on their way, Now they looked at every turning, when they should have met with the villains ; but whether Great-heart's they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or whether ^esoiutiou. they had some other game, they came not up to the Pilgrims. Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary..'" Then Christiana wish- said Mr. Honest, There is one a little before ethforaumn. us, where a very honourable disciple, one Gains, dwells. Eom. xvi. 23. So they all concluded to turn ^_^^^ in thither, and the rather, because the old gentleman gave him so good a report. So when they came to the door, they went in, not knocking, for folks use not to * " Adam hid himself because he was naked. But how could he be naied, when before he had made himself an apron ? O ! the approach of God consumed and burnt off his apron. His apron would not keep him from the 63-6 of the incoiTuptible God. When God deals with such men for sin, assm-edly they will find themselves naked." [45] If the wicked flee when no man pursueth, how can they stand when God lets loose death and eternity upon their guilty souls? ' " Thou art bound to heaven, but the way thither is dangerous. It is beset everyTvhere with evil angels, who would rob thee of thy soul. If thou wouldest go on cheerfully in thy dangerous journey, commit thy treasure— thy soul, to God, to keep ; and then thou mayest say with comfort, Well, that care is over; my soul is safe; the thicTes, if they meet me, cannot come at that; God will keep it to my joy and comfort at tho great day." [32 j i Every Christian's house should, so far as abUity is given, be an inn for the refreshment of weary fellow-pUgrims. 304 TUE pilgbim's peogress. They enter into knock at the door of an inn. Then they called his house. f^j. ^]jg master of the house, and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there that night. Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if ye be true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims. Then was Christiana, Mercy, and the Gaius entertains boys, the more glad, for that the Innkeeper them, and how. ^^^ ^ ^^^^^ ^f pHgrims. So they caUed for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and her children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Grreat-heart and the old gentleman. G-KEAT-HEABT. Then said Mr. Grreat-heart, Grood GTaius, what hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far to-day, and are weary. GrAius. It is late, said Graius, so we cannot conveniently go out to seek food ; but such as we have, you shall be welcome to, if that will content. GrBEAT-HEABT. We will be content with what thou hast in the house ; forasmuch as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so many pilgrims. This done, he comes up again, saying, Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you ; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good discourse. So they all said, Content. Talk between GrAius. Then Said Gaius, "WTiose wife is this Gains and his aged matron ? and whose daughter is this guests. J 1 o young damsel t GrEEAT-HEABT. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a Pilgrim of former times ; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance ; one that she hath per- suaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all „ , ,^. after their father, and covet to tread in his Mark this. ' . steps ; yea, if they do but see any place where the old Pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it miaistereth joy to tlieir hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 305 GrAiirs. Then said Gaius, Is tliis Christian's wife ? and are these Christian's children? I knew your husband's fatherj vea, also his father's father. Many have been good cf this stock ; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch. of christian's Acts si. 26. Christian's progenitors (I suppose ancestors. you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage, for the Lord of the Pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations, that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen, that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones. Acts vii. 59, 60. James, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword. Acts xii. 2. To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions ; Eomanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones, and Polycarp, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun, for the wasps to eat ; and he who they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea to be drowned. It would be utterly impossible to count up all of that family that have suffered injuries and death, for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's name, and tread in their father's steps, and come to their father's end. GrEEAT-HEAET. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads ; they seem to choose heartily their father's ways. G-Aius. That is it that I said ; wherefore Christian's family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of . '^ ^ , , Advice to Cnns- the ground, and yet to be numerous upon the tiana about her face of the earth; wherefore let Christiana look °^'*' out some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c., that the name of their father and the house of his pro- genitors may never be forgotten in the world.* * The affection of Matthew to his fellow pilgrim Mercy was veij delicately hinted when they were in the Interpreter's house, " If thou lovest Mercy, take Mr. Skill's medicine." Notwithstanding all the cares of a family, while the 305 THE pilgbim's peogeess. Hon. It is pity this family should fall and be extinct. G-AiTJS. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may ; but let Christiana take my advice, and that is the way to uphold it. And, Christiana, said this Innkeeper, I am glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. And may I advise, take Mercy into a nearer relation to thee ; if she will, let her be given to Matthew, thy eldest son ; it is the way to preserve you a posterity in the earth. So this match Mercy and "^^^ Concluded, and in process of time they Matthew marry, -were married ; but more of that hereafter. Gains also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by a woman, Gen. iii., so also did life and health : " God sent forth his Son, made of a WT, <• woman." Gal. iv. 4. Tea, to show how much Why women of _ ' old so much de- thoso that came after did abhor the act of the sired children. • i /-\i t mother, this sex, m the Old Testament, coveted children, if happily this or that woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the world. I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him before either man or angel. Luke ii. I read not, that ever any man did give unto Christ so much as one groat ; but the women followed him, and ministered to him of their substance. Luke viii. 2, 3. It was a woman that washed his feet with tears, and a woman that anointed his body to the burial. Luke vii. 37, 50 ; John xi. 2, xii. 3. They were women that wept, when he was going to the cross, and women that followed him from the cross, and that sat by his sepulchre, when he was buried. Luke xxiii. 27 ; Matt, xxvii. 55, 56, 61. They were women that were first with him at his resurrection- morn ; and women that brought tidings first to his disciples, that he was risen from the dead. Luke xxiv. 22, 23. Women, therefore, are highly favoured, and show by these things that they are sharers with us in the grace of life. married have many troubles, the single have few, if any, real enjoyments of life. Vows of celibacy are from beneath, from the father of lies— contrary to the ordei 3f nature, and the expressed will of God. " It is not good to be alone." THE PIIGEIM'3 PBOGKESS. 307 Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready, and sent one to lay the cloth, the „ •" , 1 1 T 1-1 Supper ready. trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in order. Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth, and of this fore-runner of the supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before. GrAiirs. So let all ministering doctrines to thee, in this life, beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the vniat to be supper of the great King in his kingdom ; for f^^^^^, "'Z all preaching, books, and ordinances here, are ^"J^^ifaiS'trench^- but as the laying of the trenchers, and as setting ers. of salt upon the board, when compared with the feast that oiu' Lord will make for us when we come to his house. So supper came up ; and first, a heave-shoulder, and a wave- breast. Lev. vii. 32 — 34, x. 14, 15, were set on the table before them, to show that they, must begin their meal with prayer and praise to Grod. Psa. xxv. 1. ; Heb. xiii. 15. The heave- shoulder David lifted his heart up to Grod with ; and with the wave-breast, where his heart lay, with that he used to lean upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very fresh and good, and they all eat heartily well thereof. The next they brought up was a bottle of wine, red as blood. Dent, xxxii. 14. So Grains said to them. Drink freely ; this is the juice of the true vine, that makes glad the heart of God and man. Judges ix. 13 ; John xv. 1. So they drank and were merry. The next was a dish of milk well crumbed ; but Graius said, Let the boys have that, that they may grow -I-. ••in -^ ^^^ "^^ milk. thereby. 1 Peter u. 1, I. Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said Gains, Eat freely of this ; for this is of honey and good to cheer up, and strengthen your judg- Gutter. ments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish when he was a child ; " Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil and choose the good." Isa. vii. 15. Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they were very good tasted fruit. Then said Matthew, * Tir J. ^ ■ J.1 11, A dish of apples. May we eat apples, since they were sucli, by and with which the serpent beguiled our fixst mother? 308 THE pilgeim's pkogsees. Then said Gaius — Apples were they with which we were beguiled : Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defiled. Apples forbid, if eat, corrupt the blood ; To eat such, when commanded, does us good. Drink of liis flagons, then, thou church, his dove, And eat his apples, who are sick of love. Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because I a whila since was sick with eating of fruit. G Aius. Forbidden fruit will make you sick, but not what our Lord has tolerated. "While they were thus talking, they were presented with another dish, and it was a dish of nuts. Can. vi. 11. Then said some at the table, Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth of children ; which when Gains heard, he said — Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters), Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters. Ope then the shells, and you shall have the meat ; They here are brought for you to crack and eat. Then were they very merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking of many things. Then said the old gentleman, My good landlord, while we are cracking your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle :' A riddle put forth A man there was, though some did count him mad by Old Honest. '£]^q more he cast away, the more he had. Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gains would say ; so he sat still awhile, and then thus replied : — He that bestows his goods upon the poor, ^ ■ Shall have as much again, and ten times more. ^ Bunj'an takes advantage of the common pastime of solving riddles, to teach important truth in a way calculated to be impressed on the memory. Thus, " tlie second Adam was before the first, and also the second covenant before the first." This is a riddle. [41 " Again, though it may seem to some a riddle, We use to light our candle at the middle." [36, xiv.] " When Immanuel entered Mansoul in triumph, a royal feast was made, after which he entertained the town with some curious riddles, drawn up by his father's secretary, by the wisdom and skill of Shaddai, the like to which there are not in any kingdom." [27] THE PILaEIM's PEOGEESS. 309 Then said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did not ,,., Ill j» j-j.i Joseph wonders. Lumk you could nave lound. it out. Oh ! said Grains, I have been trained up in this "vvay a great while ; nothing teaches like experience ; I have learned of my Lord to be kind : and have found by experience, that I have gained thereby. " There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth ; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet ; but it tendeik to poverty. Prov. xi. 24. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing ; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches," Prov. xiii. 7. Then Samuel vrhispered to Christiana, his mother, and said, Mother, this is a very good man's house, let us stay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to Mercy before we go any further. The which Grains the host overhearing said, With a very good will, my child. So they staid there more than a month, and „ , . _ _ . . „ Matthew and Mercy was given to Matthew to wife. Mercy are mar- AVhile they staid here, Mercy, as her custom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon the Pil- grims. But to return again to our story. After supper the lads desired a bed ; for that they were weary with /-^ • Ti 1 i 1 xi The boys go to travelling : then Grams called to show them bod, tho rest sit their chamber ; but said Mercy, I will have them "^' to bed. So she had them to bed, and they slept well; but the rest sat up all night ; for Gains and they were such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part. Then after much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old Mr. Honest, he that put forth the riddle to Gains, began to nod. Then said Great-heart, What, Sir, you begin to be drowsy ; come, rub up ; now here is a riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. Then said Mr, Great-heart — He that will kill, must first be overcome, . . , ,, Who live abroad would, first must die at home. 810 THE pilgeim's peogeess. Ha ! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one, hard to expound, and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said he, I -n-ill, if you please, leave my part to you ; do you expound it, and I Tvill hear what you say. No, said Graius, it was put to you, and it is expected that you should answer it. Then said the old gentleman — He first by grace must conquered be, Tlie riddle That sin would mortify ; opened. ^^^ -jyjjQ^ ^j^^^ lives, would convince me, Unto liimself must die. It is right, said Gains ; good doctrine and experience teaches this. For, first, until grace displays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory, it is altogether without heart to oppose sin; besides, if sin is Satan's cords, by which the soul lies bound, how should it make resistance, before it is loosed from that infirmity ? Secondly, nor will any, that knows either reason or grace, believe that such a man can be a living monument of grace that is a slave to his own corruptions. And now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story worth A question worth the hearing. There were two men that went the minding. ^j^ pilgrimage : the one began when he was young, the other when he was old. The young man had strong corruptions to grapple with ; the old man's were decayed with the decays of nature. The young man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as light as he. Who now, or which of them, had their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike ? Hon, The young man's, doubtless, Por that which heads it against the greatest opposition, mves best A comparison. _ " , ° . , ^ '- ' ° demonstration that it is strongest ; especially when it also holdeth pace with that that meets not with half so much ; as, to be sure, old age does not. Besides, I have observed that old men have blessed them- A • t k selves with this mistake, namely, takiug the decays of nature for a gracious conquest over coiTuptions, and so have been apt to beguile themselves. THE pilgrim's PEOGEESS. 311 Indeed, old men that are gracious, are best able to give advice to them tliat are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness of things. But yet, for an old and a young [man] to set out both together, the young one has the advantage of the fairest discovery of a work of grace within him, though the old man's corruptions are naturally the weakest. Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, when the family was up, Christiana bid her son James that he should read a chapter ; so he read the fifty-third of Isaiah. When he had done, Mr. Honest asked, why it was said that the Saviour is said to come " out of a dry ground;" and also, that "he had no form or comeliness in him?" Geeat-heaet, Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first, I answer. Because the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. To the second, I say. The words are spoken in the person of the vm.- believers, who, because they want that eye that can see into our Prince's heart, therefore they judge of him by the mean- ness of his outside. Just like those that know not that pre- cious stones are covered over with a homely crust ; who, when they have found one, because they know not what they have found, cast it again away, as men do a common stone. Well, said Gains, now you are here, and since, as I know, Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence, there is one Slay-good, a giant that does much annoy the King's highway in these parts ; and I know whereabout his haunt is. He is master of a number of thieves, assaulted and It would be well if we could clear these parts of him. So they consented, and went, Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves. When they came to the place where he was, they found him with one Feeble-mind in his hands, whom his ,,11 1, .1- 1 • .1 He is found with servants had brought unto him, having taken one FceWe-mind him in tb 8 way. Kow the giant was rifling him, ^" '^ '^^ ' 312 THE pilgeim's progress. with a purpose, after that, to pick his bones, for he was of the nature of llesh-eaters. Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted. GrREAT-nEART. "We waut thee ; for we are come to revenge the quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrhns, when thou hast dragged them out of the King's highway; wherefore, come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out ; and to a battle they went, and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind. Slat. Then said the giant, "Why are you here on my ground ? GrREAT-HEART. To revcngc the blood of pilgrims, as I also told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Grreat-heart give back ; but he came up again, and, in the greatness of his mind, he let fly with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand ; so he smote him, and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He resrae/ frcmTthe also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and brought ^'^'^'^" him with him to his lodgings. When they were come home, they showed his head to the family, and then set it up, as they had done others before, for a terror to those that shaU attempt to do as he hereafter.™ Then they asked Mr. Peeble-mind how he fell into his hands ? Teeble-mikd. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see ; and, because death did usually once mind°cIme°to be a-day kuock at my door, I thought I should a pilgrim. ncvcr be weU at home ; so I betook myself to a "■ Giant Slay-good represents a wicked, cruel man, invested with judicial authoritj- — a malignant persecutor, who intimidated feehle-minded professors by fines and imprisonments, to the hazard of theii- souls, such as Jeffries. By the thieves, of whom he was master, were perhaps intended the common informers, who got then- living by giving evidence against Nonconformists. The exhibi- tions of traitors' heads, tending to brutalize the beholders, was as common in Bunyan's days as hanging in those of George the Third. Growing intelligence has extinguished the former, wh Je the latter will soon be a tale of the olden time. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 313 pilgrim's life, and have travelled hither from the town of Uncertain, where I and my father were born. I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind ; but would, if I could, though I can but crawl spend my life in the pilgrim's way. "When I carne at the gate that is at the head of the way, the Lord of that place did entertain me freely ; neither objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind ; but gave me such things that were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there ; and because the Hill Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, though none were willing to go so softly as I am forced to do ; yet still, as they came on, they bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was the will of their Lord that comfort should be given to the feeble-minded, and so went on their own pace. 1 Thes. v. 14. When I was come up to Assault Lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter ; but, alas ! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial. So he came up and took me. I conceited he should not kill me. Also, when he had got me into his den, since I went not with him wil- lingly, I believed I should come out alive again ; for I have heard, that not any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of Providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Eobbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am ; but I am, as you see, escaped with life ; for the which I thanli my King as author, and you as the means. Other brunts I also look for ; but this I have resolved on, to wit, to run when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I thank him that loves me, I am fixed. My way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind. . HoK. Then said old Mr. Honest, Have you not, some time ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrin ? Feeble. Acquainted with him! Yes; he came from the u 314 THE pilgeim's peoguess. town of Stupidity, whicli lieth four degrees to Mr^FeebilSs the Borthward of the City of Destruction, and "'*'=^®- as many off of where I was born : yet we were well acquainted, for, indeed, he was my uncle, my father's brother. He and I have been much of a temper. He was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complexion. Hon. I perceive you know him ; and I am apt to believe also that you were related one to another ; for you somelf'Mr^^FiS-- havo his whitely look, a cast like his with your iug's features. ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ specch is much alike. Peeble. Most have said so that have known us both ; and besides, what I have read in him, I have, for the most part, found in myself. Gaius. Come, Sir, said good Gains, be of good cheer, you Gaius comforts ^^^ welcome to me, and to my house, and what ii"^- thou hast a mind to, call for freely ; and what thou wouldest have my servants do for thee, they wiU do it with a ready mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is unexpected favour, and as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. taken'of Provf- Did Giant Slay-good intend me this favour deuce. when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further? Did he intend, that after he had rifled my pockets, I should go to Gaius, mine host ? Yet so it is. Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, Tidings bow one there comes one running, and called at the door. Not -right was ^ ^^^^ ^^^t, about a mile and a half off, there slam with a ' . , -i • j i i i thunder-bolt, and .^^g q^q Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck deaa comments upon it. upou the place where he was with a thunderbolt. Feeble. Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He over- took me some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my company-keeper. He also was with me when Slay-good, the giant, took me; but he was nimble of his heels, and escaped. But, it seems, he escaped to die,and I was took to live. What, one would think, doth seek to slay outright, Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight. That very providence, whose face is death, Doth ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath. I taken was, he did escape and flee ; Hands cross'd gives death to bim, and life to me. THE pilgrim's peogeess. 315 Now, about this time, Matthew and Mercy were married. Also Graiusgave his daughter Phebe to James, Matthew's bro- ther, to wife ; after which time they yet staid above ten days at Gains' house, spending their time, and the seasons, like as pilgrims used to do. "When they were to depart, Gains made them a feast, and they did eat and drink, and were merry. ^ ^„., . •' 111 The Pilgnms Now the hour was come that they must be gone ; prepare to go wherefore Mr. Great-heart called for a reckon- ing ; but Gains told him, that at his house it was not the custom for pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He boarded them by the year, but looked for his pay from the good Samaritan, who had promised him, at one ^another at his return, whatsoever charge he was at with ^^ '°^' them, faithfully to repay him. Luke x. 34, 35. Then said Mr. Great-heart to him, Geeat-heaet. " Beloved, thou dost faithfully whatsoever thou dost to the brethren, and to strangers ; which have borne witness of thy charity before the church ; whom if thou (yet) bring forward on their joiirney after a godly sort, thou shalt do weU." 3 John 5, 6. Then Gaius took his leave of them aU, and of his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble- kindnes'stoFeebie- mind. He also gave him something to drink °^^" ' by the way. Now Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the door, made as if he intended to linger ; the which when Mr. Great-heart espied, he said. Come, Mr. Peeble-mind, pray do you go along with us, I will be your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest. Feeble. Alas! I want a suitable companion; you are aU lusty and strong ; but I, as you see, am weak ; FeeWe-mind for I choose, therefore, rather to come behind, lest, ^"'"^ beWnd. by reason of my many infirmities, I should be both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no laughing ; I shall like no gay attire j I shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay, I am so 316 THE pilgrim's pbogeess. weak a man, as to be offended ■uitli that wticli others have liberty to do. I do not yet know all the truth. His excuse for it. x • i /-ii • j • j- i am a very ignorant Christian man ; sometimes if I hear some rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I cannot do so too. It is with me, as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a lamp despised (" He that is ready to slip with Ids feet, is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease ;" Job xii. 5), so that I know not what to do. Gkeat-heakt. But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have Great-heart's ^^ ™- CO^mission to " COmfort the feeble- commission, minded," and to " support the weak." 1 Thes. V. 14. Ton must needs go along with us ; we will wait for you ; Ave will lend you our help, Hom. xiv. 1 ; we will deny ourselves A christiau ^^ some tilings, both opinionative and practical, spirit. fQj. your sake, 1 Cor. viii., we will not enter into doubtful disputations before you ; we wiU be made all things to you, rather than you shaU be left behind. 1 Cor. ix. 22. iso\y all this while they were at Gains' s door ; and behold, as they were thus in the heat of their discourse, Mr. E-eady-to- halt came by, with his crutches* in his hand, Psa. xxxviii. 17 ; and he also was going on pilgrimage. Feeble. Then said Mr. Peeble-mind to him, Man, How earnest thou hither ? I was but just now com- to ^see° Ready-to- plaining, that I had not a suitable companion, halt come by. -^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ according to my wish. "Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Eeady-to-halt, I hope thee and I may be some help. Eeady-to-halt. I shall be glad of thy company, said the other ; and good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I wiU lend thee one of my crutches." " " Excellent! See the nature of Christian love ; to be ready to spare to a bro- ther, what we need ourselves. " Poor coming soul, thou art like the man that would ride full gallop, whose horse would hardly trot. The desire of his mind is not to be judged by the slow pace of the dull beast he rides as by his hitching, kicking,and spurring. Take thisforthy comfort,' Iwill saveherthathalteth." " [26] THE pilgrim's peogbess. 317 Peeble. Nay, said he, thougli I thank thee for thy goodwill, I am not iucliued to halt before I am lame. Howbeit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog. E.EADY. If either myself or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good Mr. Feeble-mind. Thus therefore they went on ; Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt came behind with his crutches. Then said Mr. Honest, Ho]sr. Pray, Sir, now we are upon the road, tell us some profitable things of some that have gone on pil- J- . , . ° ° ^ New talk. grmiage betore us. Geeat-heaet. With a good will. I suppose you have heard iiow Christian of old did meet with Ap oily on pii-gt p-jj-t, pp. s9 in the Valley of Humiliation; and also what ""'-"'' 102—105. hard work he had, to go through the Valley of the Shadow ot Death. Also I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it with Madam "Wanton, with Adam the First, with one Discontent, and Shame, four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road. HoK. Tes, I have heard of all this ; but indeed, good Faith- ful was hardest put to it with Shame ; he was an unwearied one. Geeat-heaet. Aye ; for, as the Pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrong name. Hon. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian and Faith- ful met Talkative ? That same was also a notable First Part, p. lOS. one. Geeat-heaet. He was a confident f^^ol, yet many follow his ways. Hon. He had liked to have beguiled Faithful. Geeat-heaet. Aye, but Christian put him into a way quickly to find him out. Thus they went on till they , ,, , , -^•' ,. ^ , .' First Part, p. 119. came at the place where ilivangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them of what should befall them at Vanity Fair. Geeat-heaet. Then said their guide. Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophesied to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity Fair. 318 THE PILGBIM's PE0GEE8S. Hon. Say you so ? I dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did read unto them. Geeat-heaet. It was so ; but he gave them encouragement withal. But what do we talk of them ? they First Part, p. 127. -^^ere a couple of lion-like men ; they had set their faces like flint. Don't you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge ? HoK. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. Great-heart. So he did, and as brave things came on it; for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates it, were con- verted by his death. Hon. "WeU, but pray go on ; for you are well acquainted with things. Geeat-heart. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity Pair, one By-ends xirst Irart, p. lo-. _ was the arch one. Hon. By-ends ! What was he ? Great-heart. A very arch feUow ; a downright hypocrite. One that would be religious which way ever the world went ; but so cunning that he would be sure neither to lose nor suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion ; and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and change from opinion to opinion ; yea, and plead for so doing too. But, so far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends ; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God. Now, by this time, they were come within sight of the town of Vanity, where Vanity Pair is kept. 'So, when withm %ht°°of they saw that they were so near the town, they Vanity. consulted with one another, how they should pass through the town ; and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have, as you may understand, often been a conductor of pilgrims through this town; now I am acquainted with one Mr. ■onrj'fr.*Mnason'''s Mnason, a Cyprusiau by nation, an old disciple, to lodge. ^^ -whose house we may lodge. Acts xxi. 16. If you think good, said he, we will turn in there. Content, said old Honest ; Content, said Christiana ; Con- tent, said Mr. Feeble-mind ; and so they said all. Now, you TKE pilgbim's peogress. 819 must tliink, it was even-tide by fhat they got to the outside of the town ; but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man's house. So thither they came ; and he called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever he heard it ; so he opened, and they all came in. Then said Mnason their host, How far have ye come to-day ? so they said, !From the house of Grains our friend. I promise you, said he, you have gone a good stitch, you may well be a weary ; sit down. So they sat down. GrBEAT-HEAKT. Then Said their guide. Come, what cheer, Sirs ? I dare say you are welcome to my ^hey are glad of friend entertainment. Mkason. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome, and, •whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what we can to get it for you. Hon. Our great want, a while since, was harbour and good company, and now I hope we have both. Mnason. For harbour, you see what it is ; but for good com- pany, that will appear in the trial. Geeat-heaet. "VVeU, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the Pilgrims up into their lodging ? Mnason. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to their respective places ; and also showed them a very fair dining- room, where they might be, and sup together, until time was come to go to rest. Now, when they were set in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord, if there were any store of good people in the town ? Mnason. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few, when compared with them on the other side. Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them ? for the sight of good men to them that are going on They desire to pilgrimage, is like to the appearing of the moon good pe'Spie^of the and the stars to them that are sailing upon the t°^™- seas. Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace came up ; so he said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- man, Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that 320 IHE pilgrim's PE0GRES3. I have a friend or two at my house that have a raiud this even., iug to see them. So Grace weut to call them, and they came ; and, after salu- tation made, they sat down together at the table. Then said Mr. Muason, their landlord, My neighbours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house ; they are Pilgrims ; they come from afar, and are going to mount Zion. But who, quoth he, do you think this is ? point- ing with his finger to Christiana; it is Christiana, the wife of Christian, that famous Pilgrim, who, with Paithful his brother, were so shamefully handled in our town. At that they stood amazed, saying, "We little thought to see Christiana, when Grace came to call us ; wherefore this is a very comfortable surprise. Then they asked her of her welfare, and if these young men were her husband's sons ? And when she had told them they were, they said, The King whom you love and serve, make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace ! HoK. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all Some talk be- \ii-m/^ • wixt Mr. Honest sat down) asked Mr. Contrite and the rest, in what posture their town was at present ? CoxTRiTE. Ton may be sure we are full of hurry in fair- time. It is hard keeping our hearts and spirits in any good The fruit of watch- Order, wheu we are in a cumbered condition, fulness. jjg ^^^^ j^-^gg ^^ g^gl^ ^ place as this is, and that has to do Avith such as we have, has need of an item, to caution him to take heed, every moment of the day. Hon. But how are your neighbours for quietness ? Contrite. They are much more moderate now than formerly. Ton know how Christian and Faithful were used so hot at Vanity at OUT towu ; but of late, I Say, they have been oimei y. ^^^ more moderate. I think the blood of Faith- ful lieth with load upon them till now ; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious ; now, espe- cially in some parts of our town (for you know our town is large) religion is counted honourable." ' Gieatj indeed v&s the change in the town of Vanity, when Christiana and THE PILGEISI'S PEOaEESS. 321 Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth it with you ill your pilgrimage? How stands the country aifected towards you ? Hex. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men ; sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill ; we are seldom at a certainty ; the wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already ; and what are yet behind we know not ; but for tlie most part, we find it true, that has been talked of, of old, A good man must suffer trouble. CoNTEiTE. You talk of rubs ; what rubs have you met withal ? Hox. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, oux guide, for he can give the best accoimt of that. Geeat-heaet. AVe have been beset three or four times abeady. First, Christiana and her children were beset with two rufi&ans, that they feared would a took away their lives. We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. Indeed we did rather beset the last, than were beset of him. And thus it was : After we had been some time at the house of " Gaius, mine host, and of the whole church," Horn. xvi. 23, we were minded upon a time to take our weapons with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims (for we heard that there her party of pilgrims arrived, compared with the period when Faithful was mar- tyred. The declaration of liberty of conscience, by Charles II., had rendered the profession of vital godliness more public, still there was persecution enough to make it comparatively pure. How would our glorious dreamer now describe the face of society in our present Vanity Fair. Keligion having become fasuion- ABLE, a movement has been made towards Popery. A part of the pilgrims who remain in Vanity Fair, began to visit the cave of Giant Pope. They brushed up the giant, and gave him medicines to alleviate the hurts from those bruises which he had received in his youth; and, to make the place pleasanter, they carefully cleared away the remains of the bones and skulls of burned pilgrims, and planted 6, large enclosure with flowers and evergreens. " The cage in which the pilgrims were once confined was now never used ; some said it was consecrated for church purposes, and put under the cathedral, in a deep cell, from which it might again be brought forth if occasion required it." Such, we may imagine, would be Ban* van's description of our recent puseyite movement. ''i~2 THE pilgrim's PKOGBESS. "was a notable one thereabouts). Now Gaius knew bis taunt better than I, because be dwelt thereabout ; so we looked, and looked, till at last we discerned tbe moutb of bis cave ; then we were glad, and plucked up our spirits. So we approached up to bis den, and lo, when we came there, be bad dragged, by mere force, into bis net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, sup- posing, as we thought, be bad had another prey, he left the poor man in bis bole, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but in conclusion, be was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the way-side, for a terror to such as should after practise such un- godliness. That I tell you the truth, here is tbe man himself GO affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the moutb of tbe lion. Feeble-mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true, to my cost and comfort ; to my cost, when be threatened to pick my bones every moment ; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Gi-reat-beart and bis friends with their weapons, approach so near for my deliverance. Holt-man. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things Mr. Hoiy-mau's that they have need to be possessed with, that speech. gQ Qjj pilgrimage : courage, and an unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never bold on their way ; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of a Pilgrim stink. Love-saint. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this caution Mr. Love-saint's IS 3iot needful amougst you. But truly, there speech. j^yg many that go upon the road, that rather de- clare themselves strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pilgrims in the earth. Daee-not-lie. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, It is true, they Mr. Dare-not-Ue's neither have the pilgrim's weed, nor the pil- speech. grim'g courage ; they go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet ; one shoe goes inward, another outward, and their hosen out behind ; there a rag, and there a rent, to tbe disparagement of their Lord. Penitent. These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to THE PILGBIil's PEOGEESS. 32S be troubled for ; nor are the pilgrims like to j^ penitent's have that grace put upou them and their pil- speech. grim's progress as ttey desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes. Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until suppei was set upon the table ; imto which they went and refreshed their weary bodies ; so they went to rest. Now they stayed in this fair a great while, at the house of this Mr. Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grrace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph. The time, as I said, that they lay here, was long (for it waa not now as in former times). Wherefore the Pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, laboured much for the poor ; wherefore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her professioni" And, to say the truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their place. They were also all of them very fruitful ; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world. While they lay here, there came a monster out of the woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps.? Now no man in the town dui"st so P Kindness to the poor builds up the church. It conquers the prejudices of the worldly, secures their confidence, and brings them under the preaching of the gospel. They conclude that they cannot be bad people who do so much good. 9 " This monster is Antichrist. The devil is the head ; the synagogue of Satan is the body ; the wicked spirit of iniquity is the soul. The devil made use of the church to midwife this monster into the world. He had plums in his dragon's mouth, and so came in by flatteries. He metamorphosed himself into a beast, a man, or woman ; and the world loved the woman dearly, became her sons, and took up helmet and shield to defend her. She arrayed herself in flesh-taking ornaments — gold, and precious stones, lil^e an harlot. She made the kings drunken, and they gave her the blood of saints and martjTS until she was drunken, and did revel and roar. But when her cup is drunk out, God will call her to such a reckoning, that all her clothes, and jewels shall not be able to pay the shot. This beast is compared to *ie wild boar that comes out of the wood to devour the church of God. Ps. Ixxx. 13 The temporal sword will kill its body, but spirit can only be slain by spirit; the Lord the Spu-it will slay its soul." [06] 324 THE pilgrim's peooress. mucli as face this monster ; but all men fled when thej heard of the noise of his coming. The monster was like unto no one beast upon the earth ; His shape, bis its bodj was like a dragon, and it had seven nature. heads and ten horns. Eev. xvii. 3. It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman.'" This monster propounded conditions to men, and such men as loved their lives more than their souls, accepted of those conditions.*' So they came under. IS^ow this Mr. Great-heart, together with these that came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a cove- nant to go and engage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent. Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, How he is ^^r. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, Avith their engaged. weapons go forth to meet him. Now the mon- ster, at first, was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain ; but they so belaboured him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a retreat ; ' so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again. The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town ; also these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did still continually assault him ; insomuch that in process of time he became not only wounded, but lame ; also he has not made that havoc of the townsmen's '' For this woman's name and costume see Rev. xvii. 1 — 4. She has sent a son. to England, under the impudent assumption of Arclibisliop of Westminster. * These conditions were the Act of Uniformitj', the Test and Corporation Acts, and tliat to suppress conventicles, 16G0 — 1672. ' "And that you may be convinced of the truth of this, lookback and compare Antichrist four liundred years ago, with Antichrist as he now is, and you shall see what work the Lord Jesus has made with him ; kingdoms and countries he hath iaken from her. True, the fogs of Antichrist, and the smoke that came with him out of the bottomless pit, has eclipsed the glorious light of the gospel ; but you know, in eclipses, when they are recovering, all the creatures upon the face of the earth cannot put a stop to that course, until the sun or the moon have reco- vered their glory. And thus it shall he now, the Lord is returning to visit his people with his primitive lustre ; the light of the sun shall be sevenfold." [56J THE pilgrim's peogeess. 325 children, as formerly he has done. And it is verily believed by some, that this beast will die of his wounds." This, therefore, made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of great fame in this town ; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverend esteem and respect for thepi." Upon this account therefore it was, that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand more than a beast; these had no reverence for these men, nor took they notice of their valour or adventures."" "Well, the time grew on that the Pilgrims must go on their way, wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends ; they conferred with them ; they had some tune set apart, therein to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. There were again, that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such things as were necessary. Acts xxviii. 10. Then they set forward on their way ; and their friends accom- panying them so far as was convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and parted. They, therefore, that were of the Pilgrim's company went on, and Mr. Grreat-heart went before them. JNTow the women and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they could bear ; by this means Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Peeble-mind had more to sympathize with their condition. "When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death ; there therefore they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross " When nations have restored to the people the property of which they have been plundered, under the pretence of obtaining the favour of God, the monster ivill die ; when neither rule, nor honour, nor pelf is to be gained by hypocrisy. " This may refer to that noble band of eminent men who, in 1675, preached the morning exercises against Popery; Owen,Manton, Raxter, Doolittle, Jenkyn Poole, and many others. They were then, and ever will be, of great fame. " The plans of Charles II. and James II., to re-establish Popery in England, were defeated by the union of the eminent Nonconfonnists with some decided snemies to liome in the Established Church ; this brought them into esteem. 326 THE piloeim's pbogeess. so well ; and the ratter because they now found that they had a benefit by such a manly suffering as his was* They went on, therefore, after this, a good way further, talk- ing of Christian and Faithful ; and how Hopeful joined himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead. Now they were come up mth the Hill Lucre, where the „. , „ _^ silver mine was, which took Demas off from his First Part, p. 189. ... ' . , . , pilgrimage, and into which, as some thmk. By- ends fell and perished ; wherefore they considered that. But when they were come to the old monument that stood over against the Hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake; they mar- velled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, should be so blinded as to turn aside here. Only they considered again, that nature is not affected with the harms that others have met with, especially if that thing upon which they look, has an attracting virtue upon the foolish eye. I saw now that they went on, till they came at the river that ^. ^ „ ^ was on this side of the Delectable Mountains. Fa-8t Part, p. 143. „, . , io the river where the fine trees grow on both sides ; and whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against surfeits, where the meadows are green all the year long, and where they might lie down safely. Psa. xxiii. By this river side, in the meadow, there were cotes and folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the babes of those women that go on pilgrimage. Heb. V. 2. Also there was here one that was intrusted with them, who could have compassion, and that could gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with young. Isa. xl. 11. Now to the care of this man, Christiana admonished her four daughters to commit their little ones, that by these waters they might be housed, harboured, succoured, and nourished, ' Da\id Hume admitted tlie invaluable services of the Puritans, " By whom the precious spark of liberty was kindled and preserved, and to whom the English owe all the blessings of their excellent constitution." THE pilgrim's peogeess. 327 and that none of them might be lacking in time to come.y This Man, if any of them go astray, or be lost, he will bring them again : he will also bind up that which was bx'oken, and will strengthen them that are sick. Ezek. xxxiv. 11 — 16. Here they will never want meat, and drink, and clothing ; here they will be kept from thieves and robbers ; for this Man will die before one of those committed to his trust shall be lost. Jer. xxiii. 4. Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and admonition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, and that you know is a favour of no small account. Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit ; fruit not like that that Matthew ate of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub's garden ; but fruit that procureth health where there is none, and that continueth and increaseth it where it is. So they were content to commit their little ones to him ; and that which was also an encouragement to them so to do, was, for that all this was to be at the charge of the Eling, and so waa as an hospital for young children and orphans. Now they went on ; and when they were come to By-path Meadow, to the stile over which Christian went First Pai-t, with his fellow Hopeful, when they were taken ^' ^^*' by Giant Despair, and put into Doubting Castle ; to^^By-path^ stul^ they sat down and consulted what was best to be ^^^'^ ^ '^""'i ^ •^ . have a pluck with done ; to wit, now they were so strong, and had Giant Uespaii-. got such a man as Mr, Great-heart for their conductor, Avhether they had not best to make an attempt upon the Giant, de- molish his castle, and, if there were any pilgrims in it, to set them at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said the contrary. One questioned if it was lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground; another said they might, provided their end was good ; but Mr. Great-heart y See the tender care of the Saviour to the children of believers committed to him by godly parents. Not by any ceremonial observance, but by constant fervent supplications to the throne of grace on their behalf, and by a consistent, pious example to train them up in the way in which they should go. 328 THE pilgrim's progress. said, Thougli that assertion oiFerec. last cannot be universally true, yet I have a commandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the good fight of faith ; and, I pray, with whom should I fight this good fight, if not with Giant Despair ? I will, therefore, attempt the taking away of his life, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. Then said he, who will go with me ? Then said old Honest, I will. And so will we too, said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, James, and Joseph ; for they were young men and strong. 1 Jolmiii. 13, 14. So they left the women in the road, and with them Mr. Peeble- niind and Mr. Eeady-to-halt with his crutches, to be their guard, until they came back; for in that place, though Griant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a little child might lead them. Isa. xi. 6. So Mr. Grreat-heart, old Honest, and the four young men, Avent to go up to Doubting Castle, to look for Giant Despair, "When they come at the Castle-gate, they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise. At that the old Giant comes to the gate, and Diflidence, his wife, follows. Then said he. Who and what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the Giant Despair? Mr. Great-heart replied, It is I, Great-heart, one of the King of the Celestial Country's conductors of pil- grims to their place ; and 1 demand of thee that thou open thy gates for my entrance. Prepare thyself also to fight, for 1 am come to take away thy head, and to demolish Doubting Castle. Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought no man Despair has over- could overcome him; and, again, thought he, come angels, gi^ge heretofore I have made a conquest of anjrels, shall Great-heart make me afraid! So he harnessed himself, and went out. He had a cap of steel upon his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to him, and he came out in iron shoes, with a great club in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and before. Also when Diffi- dence, the giantess, came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground, but was very THE pilgeim's peooeess. 329 loath to die. He strugsfled hard, and liad, as ■,. 1 y-i De.' pair 13 loath they say, as many lives as a cat ; but Great- to die. heart was his death, for he left him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders. Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, that you know might with ease be done, since Griant Doubting Castie Despair was dead. They were seven days in demoUsbcd. destroying of that ; and in it of pilgrims they found one Mr. Despondency, almost starved to death, and one Much-afraid, his daughter ; these two they saved alive. But it would have made you a-wondered to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how full of dead men's bones the dungeon was. When Mr. Grreat-heart and his companions had performed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection ; for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to that tyrant Giant Despair. They, therefore, I say, took with them the head of the giant, for his body they had buried under a heap of stones, and down to the road and to their companions they came, and showed them what they had done. IS^ow when Feeble-mind and Eeady-to-halt saw that it was the head of Giant Despair indeed, they were very jocund and merry .^ IN^ow Christiana, if need was, could play upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy upon the lute; so since they They have music were so merry disposed, she played them a ^^'^ dancing for joy. lesson, and Eeady-to-halt would dance. So he took Despond- ency's daughter, named Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in the road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand ; but, I promise you, he footed ' The experience of the Much-afraids, Ready-to-halts, and the Feehle-minds are thus described : " Poor coining soul, thou ait like the man that would ride full gallop, whose horse will hardly trot ! Now, the desire of his mind is not to be judged of by the slow pace of the dull jade he rides on, but by the hitching, and kicking, and spurring, as he sits on his back. Thy flesh is like this dull jade ; it will not gallop after Christ, it will be backward, though thy soul and heaven lia at stake. But be of good comfort, Christ judgeth according to the sincerity of Vhe heart." [261 X 330 THE pilgeim's pkogress. it well. Also the girl was to be commended, for ste answered the music handsomely. As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not much to him ; he was for feeding rather than dancing, for that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle of spirits, for present relief, and then prepared him something to eat ; and, in a little time, the old gentleman came to himself, and began to be finely revived. Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were finished, Mr. Great-heart took the head of Giant Despair, and set it upon a pole by the highway side, right over against the piUar that Christian erected for a caution to pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds. • Though Doubting Castle be demolish'd, And the Giant Despair hath lost his head, Sin can rebuild the Castle, make't remain, And make Despair the Giant live again. Then he writ under it, upon a marble stone, these verses fol- lowing : — This the head of him, whose name only In former times did pilgrims terrify. His Castle's down ; and Diffidence, his wife, Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of life. A monument of Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, deliverance. Great-heart for them also the man has play'd; Whp hereof doubts, if he'll but cast his 63-6 Up hither, may his scruples satisfy : This head also, when doubting cripples, dance, Doth show from fears they have deliverance. When these men had thus bravely showed themselves against Doubting Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they went for- ward ; and went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the Shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. Now the Shepherds, seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great-heart, for with him they were well acquainted, they said THE PIlGEIM'a PBOGBESS. 331 unto him, Good Sir, you have got a goodly company here. Pray, where did you find all these ? Then Mr. Grreat-heart replied — First, here is Christiana and her train, Her sons, and her sons' wives, who like the wain," Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer, From sin to grace, else they had not been here ; Next, here's old Honest come on pUgrimage, rpj^g Qiijje's Eeady-to-halt, too, who, I dare engage speech to the True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, Shepherds. Who willing was not to be left behind; Despondency, good man, is coming after, And so also is Much-afraid his daughter. May we have entertainment here, or must We further go ? Let's know whereon to trust. Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortahle company. Tou are welcome to us, for we have comfort for Their entertaiu- the feeble as for the strong. Our Prince has an '^'^^*'- eye to what is done to the least of these ; therefore infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment. Matt. xxv. 40. So they had them to the palace door, and then said unto them, Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind ; Come in, Mr, Eeady-to-halt ; Come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid, his daughter. These, Mr. Great-heart, said the Shepherds to the guide, we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back ; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in yoxu^ faces, and that you are my Lord's shepherds indeed; for that a description of you have not pushed these diseased neither with ^^'^"^ shepherds. side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should. Ezek. xxxiv. 21.* " " The wain," seven bright stars in the constellation of Ursa Major, called by countrj' people, the plough. * Bunyan was peculiarly tender with the weak; they are to be received, but not to doubtful disputations. Thus, with regard to the great cause of separation among Christians, he says, " If water-baptism" (whether by sprinkling of infants, or immersing of adults) " trouble their peace, wound the consciences of the godly, and dismember their fellowships, it is, altliough an ordinance, for the present, to be prudently shunned, for the edification of the church." " Love is more dis- cov .'red when we receive, for the sake of Christ, than when we refuse his childien fo) want of water." [15] When will such peaceful sentiments prevail ? 332 THE pilgkim's peogeess. So tlie feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the Shepherds said to those of the weaker sort. What is it that you would have ? for, said they, all things must be managed here to the supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of the unruly. So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing ; the which, when they had received, they went to their rest, each one re- spectively unto his proper place. When morning was come, because the mountains were high, and the day clear, and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to show to the Pil- grims, before their departure, some rarities ; therefore, after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the Shepherds took them out int© the fields, and showed them first what they had showed to Christian before. Then they had them to some new places. The first was to Mount Marvel, where they looked, and beheld a Mount Marvel. t i i i i -n man at a distance, that tumbled the hills about with words. Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean ? So they told them, that that man was the son of one Grreat-grace, of whom you read in the First Part of the Eecords of the Pilgrim's Progress. And he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their way, what difficulties they shall meet with, by faith. Mark xi. 23, 24. Then said Mr, Great-heart, I know him. He is a man above many. Then they had them to another place, called Mount Inno- cent ; and there they saw a man clothed all in Mount Innocent. , ., , , -r-. • t t ^^^ -n white, and two men. Prejudice and 111-wili, continually casting dirt upon him. IS'ow, behold, the dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in little time fall off again, and his garments would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat." ' TL2 history of Joseph, with that of Mr. Bunyan, and of thousands besides, ■Drove that charges against a godly, innocent man, arising from the pi-ejudice, ill- will, and malice of his enemies, shall eventually turn out to his honour, and to their confusion. " Blessed are ye -when men shall revile you, and persecute you, *nd shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for mj sake." Mat. t. 11. THE pilgrim's peogeess. 333 Then said the Pilgrims, What means this ? The Shepherds answered, This man is named Godly-man, and this garment is to show the innocency of his life. 'Now, those that throw dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing ; but, as you see the dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that liveth truly innocently in the world. Whoever they be that would make such men dirty, they labour all in vain ; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the noon-day. Then they took them, and had them to Mount Charity, where they showed them a man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. Then said they, What should this be ? This is, said the Shepherds, to show you, that he that has a heart to give of his labour to the poor, shall never want wherewithal. He that watereth shall be watered himself And the cake that the widow gave to the prophet did not cause that she had ever the less in her barrel. They had them also to a place where they saw one Fool, and one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, with T 1 " 1 -J 1 1. n The work of intention to make him white; but the more one fooI, and one they washed him the blacker he was. They then asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they told them, saying, Thus shall it be with the vile person. All means used to get such a one a good name shall, in conclusion, tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it was with the Pharisees, and so shall it be with all hypocrites. Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana, her mother, Mother, I would, if it might be, see the ,, , ' ' JO' Mercy has a hole in the hill, or that commonly called the by- mind to see tho , „ ' , 1111 ■ 1 bole in the hiU. way to hell. So her mother brake her mmd to the Shepherds. Then they went to the door. ^'^^ ^ '^' It was in the side of a hill, and they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken awhile. So she hearkened, and heard one saying Cursed be my father, for holding of my feet back from the waj 334 THE pilqeim's peo&eesb. of peace and life; and anotlier said, O that I liad been torn in pieces, before I had, to save my life, lost my soul ! and another said, If I were to live again, how would I deny myself, rather than come to this place ! Then there was as if the very earth had groaned and quaked under the feet of this young woman for fear. So she looked white, and came trembling away, saying. Blessed be he and she that are delivered from this place.*^ JSTow when the Shepherds had shown them aU these things, then they had them back to the palace, and entertained them with what the house would afford. But Mercy being a young Mercy longeth, and breeding woman, longed for something that and for what. ^-^^ saw there, but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked her what she ailed ; for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind : if, therefore, I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention thy wants to the Shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy said. Then, mother, if you please, ask the Shepherds if they are willing to sell it. Now the glass was one of a thousand. It woidd present a It was the Word man. One Way, with his own features exactly, of God. jj^g_ ^^ 23 ; and, turn it but another way, and it would show one the very face and similitude of the Prince of Pilgrims himself. 1 Cor. xiii. 12. Yea, I have talked with them that can tell, and they have said that they have seen the very crown of thorns upon his head, by looking in that glass ; they have therein also seen the holes in his hands, in his feet, and his side. 2 Cor. iii. 18. Tea, such an excellency is there ' " 0, damned souls will have thoughts that will clash with glory, clash with justice, clash with law, clash with itself, clash with hell, and with the everlasting- ness of misery ; but the point, the edge, and the poison of all these thoughts will Btill he galling, and dropping their stings into the sore, grieved, wounded, fretted place, which is the conscieuc§, though not the conscience only ; for I may say of , the souls in hell, that they, all over, are but one wound, one sore." [29] Well might Mercy say, " Blessed are they that are delivered from this place !" THE PILGEIJl'S PEOaEESS. 335 in that glass, that it will show him to one where they have a miud to see him ; whether living or dead ; whether in earth or heaven ; whether in a state of humiliation, or in his exaltation ; whether coming to suiFer, or coming to reign.* Christiana, therefore, went to the Shepherds apart — now the names of the Shepherds are Knowledge, Expe- „. , p ^ rience, "Watchful, and Sincere — and said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding woman, that I think doth long for something that she hath seen in this house ; and she thinks she shall miscarry, if she shall by you be denied. ExPEKiE^rcE. Call her, call her; she shall assuredly have what we can help her to. So they called her, s^e doth not lose and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou ^«'" '°°&'°^- wouldst have ? Then she blushed, and said. The great glass that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran and fetched it, and, with a joyful consent, it was given her. Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said. By this I know that I have obtained favour in your eyes. They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to their husbands great commendations, for that they had joined with Mr. Great-heart, to the slaying of Giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. About Christiana's neck, the Shepherds put a bracelet, and so they did about the necks of her four daughters ; ^ .. ,., •' . . , . J . 1 How the Bhep- also they put ear-nngs in their ears, and jewels herds adom the on their foreheads. AVhen they were minded to go hence, they let them go in peace, but gave not to them those certain cautions which before were given to Christian and his companion. The _,.._. reason was for that these had Great-heart to be their guide, who was one that was well acquaiuted with things, and so could give them their cautions more seasonably ; to wit, even then when the danger was nigh the approaching. * Abraham Cheer, who perished in prison for nonconformity in Banyan's time, published a little volume of poems, in which he compares the Bibla to a looking- glass, in these very appropriate lines: — " If morn by morn you in this glass will dress you, I have some hopes that God by it may bless you." 336 THE pilgeim's peogress. What cautions Christian and his companion had received of the Shepherds, they had also lost, by that the time was come that they had need to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this com- pany had over the other. Prom hence they went on singing, and they said, Behold, Low fitly are the stages set For theu- relief that pilgrims are become ! And how they us receive without one let, That makes the other life our mark and home ! What novelties they have to us they give, That we, though Pilgrims, jo3'ful lives may live; They do upon us, too, such things bestow. That show we Pilgrims are, where'er we go. When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly came to the place where Christian met with one Turn- away, that dwelt in the town of Apostasy. Wherefore of him Mr. Grreat-heart, their guide, did now put them in mind, saying. This is the place where Christian met „ ^ with one Turn-away, who carried with him the How one Turn- . . away managed character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concerning this man ; he would hearken to no counsel, but, once falling, persuasion could not stop him. When he came to the place where the Cross and the Sepul- chre were, he did meet with one that did bid him look there, but he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said, he was resolved to go back to his own town. Before he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, who offered to lay hands on him, to turn him into the way again. But this Turn-away resisted him, and having done much despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and so escaped his hand. Heb. x. 26 — 29. Then they went on ; and just at the place where Little-faith formerly was robbed, there stood a man with hia truth beset with sword drawn, and his face all bloody. Then said thieves. ^^^ Great-heart, What art thou? The man made answer, sayiug, I am one whose name is Valiant-for- trutb, I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celestial City, THE pilgeim's peogeess. 337 Now, as I was m my way, there were three men did beset me and propounded unto me these three things : 1. Whether I would become one of them. 2. Or go back from whence I came. 3. Or die upon, the place. To the first, I answered, I had been a true man a long season, and therefore it could not be expected that I now should cast in my lot with thieves. Prov. i. 10 — 14. Then they demanded what I would say to the second. Sol told them that the place from whence I came, had I not found incommodity there, I had not forsaken it at all ; but finding it altogether unsuitable to me, and very un- profitable for me, I forsook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to the third. And I told tliem. My life cost more dear far, than that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have notliing to do thus to put things to my choice ; where- fore, at your peril be it if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, drew upon me, and I also drew upon them/ So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of above three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some oi the marks oi their valour, and have lumseif, and put 1 • J •,i_ .1 n • them to flight. also carried away with them some ox mine. They are but just now gone. I suppose they might, as the say- ing is, hear your horso dash, and so they betook them to flight. GrEEAT-HEAET. But hcre was great odds, three wonders at tis , valour. against one. Valiant. It is true ; but little or more are nothing to him that has the truth on his side. "Though an host should encamp against me," said one, "my heart shall not fear; though war should rise against me, in this icill I he confident." Psa. xxvii. 3. Besides, saith he, I have read in some records, that one man has fought an army. And how many did Samson slay with the jaw-bone of an ass.^ Jadg. xv. 15, IG. / " The great God, the former of all things, taketli part with them that fear him; so that we may boldly say, ' The Lord isjiiy helper, I will not fear what men can do unto me.' Would it not he amazing to see a man encompassed with chariots, and horses, and weapons of defence, yet afraid of being sparrow-blasted or oveiTun by a gi-asshopper." [04] «" In til's battle, tliis striving for the truth, tliree considerations strike the 338 • THE pilgrim's pbogkess. GriiEAT-HEAKT. Then Said the guide, "Why did you not cry out, that some might have come in for your si ccour ? Valiant. So I did, to my King, who, I knew, could hear, and afford invisible help, and that was suflS.cient for me. GrREAT-HEART. Then Said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant-for- truth, Thou hast worthily behaved thyself. Let me see thy sword. So he showed it him. When he had taken it in his hand, and looked thereon a while, he said, Ha ! it is a right Jerusalem blade. Isa. ii. 3. Valiant. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it. He need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edges will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit, and aU. Eph. vi. 12—17. Heb. iv. 12. Great-heart. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you was not weary. Valiant. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand ; ^^^^^^ and when they were joined together, as if a The Faith. sword grew out of my arm, and when the blood ran through my fingers, then I fought with most courage. 2 Sam. xxiii. 10. Great-heart. Thou hast done well. Thou hast " resisted unto blood, striving against sin." Thou shalt abide by us, come in and go out with us, for we are thy companions. Then they took him, and washed his wounds, and gave him of what they had to refresh him ; and so they went on toge- ther. Now, as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart was delighted in him, for he loved one greatly that he found to be mind: — 1. Reliance upon Divine aid, without wliicli we can do nothing. 2. A right Jerusalem weapon, forged in the fire of love, well tempered with Bible truths. Such a sword will make even the angel of the bottomless pit flee, its edge will never blunt, and it will cut through everything opposed to it. 3. Decision of character, perseverance to the utmost; no trimming or meanly compounding for truth, but a determination, in the Lord's strength, to come off more than con- querors. It is blessed fighting when band and heart are engaged. The church of Christ has produced heroes. Luther and Knox, and Latimer and Bunyan, were men of this stamp ; each of whom might, with great propriety, have been Hemed Valiant- for-tbe-trutb. THE pilgeim's peogeiss. 339 a man of his hands, and because there were with his company them that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned with, him about many things ; as, first, what countryman he was ? Valiant. I am of Dark-land ; for there I was born, and there my father and mother are still. Geeat-heaet. Dark-land, said the guide ; doth not that lie upon the same coast with the City of Destruction ? Valiant. Tes, it doth. Now that which caused me to come on pilgrimage was this ; we had one Mr. Telltrue g^^ ^^^ ^^,.^^^ came into our parts, and he told it about what came to go on pii- gnmage. Christian had done, that went from the City oi Destruction ; namely, how he had forsaken his wife and chil- dren, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was also confidently reported, how he had killed a serpent that did come out to resist him in his journey, and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told, what welcome he had at all his Lord's lodgings, especially when he came to the gates of the Celestial City ; for there, said the man, he was received, with sound of trumpet, by a company of Shining Ones. He told it also, how all the bells in the city did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments he was clothed with, with many other things that now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels, that my heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after him nor could father or mother stay me! So I got from them, and come thus far on my way. G-EEAT-HEAET. Tou Came in at the gate, did you not ? Valiant. Tes, yes ; for the same man also told us that all would be nothing, if we did not begin to enter He begins right, this way at the gate.* Great-heaet. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, and what he has christian's name gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. amous. Valiant. Why, is this Christian's wife ? Great-iieaet. Tes, that it is ; and these are also her four Bons. * The reason why so many professors set out, hut fall away at last, is, hecaaM they do not enter into the pilgrim's path by Christ, who is the gate. 340 THE pilgeim's peoguess. Valiakt. "What ! and going on pilgrimage too? GrREAT-HEAET. Tes, verily ; they are following after. Valtakt. It gladdens me at heart. Good man ! how joyful „ . , will he be when he shall see them that would He IS much re- ^ _ /• i • • i joiced to see Chris- not go with him, yet to enter after him m at the Sian's wife. , • . , i • , gates into the city. Geeat-heaet. Without doubt it will be a comfort to him; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children. Valiant. But, now you are upon that, pray let me hear Your opinion about it. Some make a question, Whether we shall know one another when we are there. Geeat-heaet. Do they think they shall know themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do these, why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also ?» Again, since relations are our second self, though that state will be dissolved there ; yet why may it not be rationally con- cluded, that we shall be more glad to see them there, than to see they are wanting ? Valiaistt. AVell, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage ? Geeat-heaet. Tes. Was your father and mother willing that you should become a pilgrim ? « Among many questions whicli agitate the Christian's mind, this is very gene- rally a subject of inquiry. At the mount of transfiguration, the apostles knew the glorified spirits of Moses and Elias. The rich man, and Lazarus, and Abraham knew each other. The most solemn inquiry is, to reconcile with the bliss gf heaven the discovei^ that some dear relative has been shut out. Shall we forget them? or will all our exquisite happiness centre in the glory of God? Bunyan las no doubt upon personal identity in heaven : — " Our friends that lived godly here Shall there be found again; The wife, the child, and father dear, With others of our train. " Those God did use us to convert, We there with joy shall meet, ^ And jointly shall, with all our heart, In life each other greet." [7 +] gerous THE PILGEIm's PROGEESS. 3il Valiant. Oh no ! They used all means imaginable to persuade me to stay at home. Geeat-heaet. "What could they say against it ? Valiant. They said it was an idle life ; and if I myself were not inclined to sloth and lazi- biing-Wocks that ITj , •! • > by his friends would never countenance a pilgrim s were laid in ws condition. ^'^^" Geeat-heaet. And what did they say else ? Valiant. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way ; yea, the most dangerous way in the world, said they, is that which the pilgrims go. Geeat-heaet. Did they show wherein this way is so dan- ? Valiant. Tes ; and that in many particulars. Geeat-heaet. Name some of them. Valiant. They told me of the Slough of Despond, where Christian was well nigh smothered. They told me The first stum- that there were archers standing ready in Beel- ™^" zebub's Castle, to shoot them that should knock at the wicket- gate for entrance. They told me also of the wood, and dark mountains; of the Hill Difficulty ; of the lions; and also of the three giants. Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good. They said moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the Valley of Humiliation, and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hobgoblins are ; where the light is darkness ; where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me also of Giant Despair, of Doubting Castle and of the ruin that the Pilgrims met with there. Further, they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was danjierous. And that, after all this, I should find a river, over wliich I should find no bridge, and that that river did lie be« twixt me and the Celestial Country. Geeat-heaet. And was this all ? Valiant. No. They also told me that this way was full of deceivers, and of persons that laid in wait there, to turn good men out of the path. Geeat-heaet. But how did they make that out ? 342 THE pilgrim's proqeess. Valiant, They told me that Mr. "Worldly-wise-man did there lie in wait to deceive. They also said, that there was Formality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They said, also, that By-ends, Talkative, or Deraas would go near to gather me up ; that the Flatterer would catch me in his net ; or that, with green-headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the gate, from whence he always was sent back to the hole that , was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell. Geeat-heakt. I promise you this was enough to discourage ; but-. did they make an end here ? Valia:^t. jS'o ; stay. They told me also of many that had tried that way of old, and that had gone a great The thir . ^^^ therein, to see if they could find something of the glory there, that so many had so much talked of from time to time; and how they came back again, and befooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And they named several that did so; as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more, who, they said, had some of them gone far, to see if they could find ; but not one of them found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather.-? Great-heaet. Said they anything more to discourage you ? Yalta NT. Tes. They told me of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim ; and how he found this way so soli- The fourth, ^.^j,^^ ^j^^^ Yie never had a comfortable hour therein. Also, that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein ; yea, and also, which I had almost forgot, that Christian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned J " If Judas the traitor, or Francis Spira tlie backslider, were alive, to whisper these men in the ear a little, and to tell them what it hath cost their souls for turning back, it would surely stick by them as long as they have a day to live in the world. Agrippa gave a fair step on a sudden ; he stepped almost into the bosom of Christ in less than half an hour. ' Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' It was but almost, and so he had as good been not at all. He stepped fair, but stepped short. He was hot whilst he ran, bnt he was quickly out of breath. Oh this but almost ! I tell you, it lost his soul. What a doom they wiM have who were almost at heaven's gate, but rat 'jack again 1" L^T] THE pilgeim's peogeess. 343 in the Black Eiver, and never went foot further, however it , was smothered up. Geeat-heaet. And did none of these things discourage you? Vaiiant. 1^0 ; they seemed but as so many nothings to me. Geeat-heaet. How came that about ? Valtai^t. Why, I still believed what Mr. „ , . •' ' . How he got OT^er Tell-true had said, and that carried me beyond these stumbiiDg- ' blocks. them all. Geeat-heaet. Then this was your victory, even your faith Vajliant. It was so. I believed, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, and, by believing, am come to this place. Who would true valour see. Let him come hither ; One here wiU constant be, Come wind, come weather. There's no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avow'd intent To be a pilgrim. \Vlio so beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound, — His strength the more is ; No lion can him fright, He'll with a giant fight; But he will have a right To be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit; He knows he at the end Shall life inherit. Then fancies fly away, He'll fear not what men say ; He'll labour night and day To be a pilgrim. By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy ; ^.^^ ^^ ^ ^^^ and that place was all grown over with briars 344! THE pilgrim's peogress. and thorns, excepting here and there, where was an Enchanted Arbour, upon which, if a man sits, or in which, if a man sleeps, it is a question, say some, whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one and the other, and Mr. Greatheart went before, for that he was the guide; and Mr. Yaliant-for-truth, he came behind, being there a guard, for fear, lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered up one another as well as they could . Feeble-mind, Mr. Great-heart commanded, should come up after him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all, so that they could scarce, for a great while, see the one the other ; wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel for one another by words ; for they walked not by sight. But any one must think that here was but sorry going for the best of them all ; but how much worse for the Vv-omen and children, who both of feet and heart were but tender. Yet so it was, that through tlie encouraging words of he that led in the front, and of him that brought theiu up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. The way also was here very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. 'Nov was there on all this ground so much as one inn or victualling-house, therein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing. "While one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt ; and the children, some of them, lost their shoes in the mire. While one cries out, I am down ; and another, Ho ! where are you ? and a third. The bushes have got such fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them. Then the 7 come at an arbour, warm, and promising much refreshing to the Pilgrims ; for it was finely o>e Enchaatei wrought above head, beautified with greens, fur- Ground. to" nished with benches and settles. It also had in THE pilgeim's peogeess. 3-15 it a soft couch, -whereon the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things considered, was tempting ; for the Pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the way ; but there was not one of them that made so much as a motion to stop there. Tea, for aught I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually, when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. This arbour was The name of tho called The Slothful's Friend, on purpose to '''^°'''- allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary. I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground, till they came to a place at The way difficult which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was light, their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand ; but he had in his pocket a map of The guide has a all ways leading to or from the Celestial City ; Sngto'oUw wherefore he struck a light, for he never goes, ^^° "'y- also, without his tinder-box, and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be careful, in that place, to turn to the right-hand way. And had he not here been careful to look in his map, they had all, in probability, been smothered in the mud; for just a little before them, and that at the end of the cleanest way, too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the Pilgrims in.^' Then thought I with myself, who that goeth ^^^ on pilgrimage, but would have one of these maps about him, that he may look when he is at a stand, which is the way he must take. They went on, then, in this Enchanted Grround, till they * " Since snares, and traps, and gins are for us set, Since liere's a bole, and there is spread a net. Oh let no body at my muse deride, No man can travel here without a guide." [40.] 24'Q THE PILGBIM's PBOaEESS. An arboiir, and Came to where there was another arbour, and it two asleep th'eroin. ^^s built by the highway-sicle. And in that arbour there lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage ; but here, being wearied with their journey, they sat down to rest them- selves, and so fell fast asleep. When the Pilgrims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads ; for they knew that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do, whether to go on and leave them in their sleep, or to step to them, and try to awake them. So they concluded to go to them, and awake them ; that is, if they could ; but with tbis caution, namely, to take heed that themselves did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbour. So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each by his name, for the guide, it seems, did know them ; but there The Pilgrims tiy "^^^ ^^ voice nor answer. Then the guide did to wake them. gbako them, and do what he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, I will pay you when I take my money. At which the guide shook his head. I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said the other. At that one of the children laughed. Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this ? The Their endeavour g^ido Said, They talk in their sleep. If you IS fruitless. strike them, beat them, or whatever else you do to them, they will answer you after this fashion; or, as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of a ship, " When shall I awake ? I wiU seek it yet again." Pro v. xxiii. 34, 35. You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say anything, but their words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an iucoherency in their words now, as there was before, be- twixt their going on pilgrimage, and sitting down here. This, then, is the mischief of it, when heedless ones go on pilgrim- age, it is twenty to one but they are served thus ; for this En- chanted Ground is one of the last i-efuges that the enemy to pilgrims has. Wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and so it standeth against us with the more advantage. Por when, thinks the enemy, wiU these fools be so THE PILGEIM'S PKOaEESS. 847 desirous to sit down, as when they are weary ? and when so like to be weary, as when almost at their journey's end ? There- fore it is, I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the Land Beulah, and so near the end of tlieir race. Where- fore, let pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them as it has done to these, that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can wake them. Then the Pilgrims desired, with trembling, to go forward ; only they prayed their guide to strike a light, -n^e ught of the that they might go the rest of their way by the ^^°^'^- help of the light of a lantern.' So he struck a light, and they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great. 2 Peter i. 19. But the children began to be sorely weary ; and they cried out unto him that loveth pilgrims, to make their The children cry way more comfortable. So by that they had ^-^ weai-mess. gone a little further, a wind arose, that drove away the fog ; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not oft", by much, of the Enchanted Grround, only now they could see one another better, and the way wherein they should walk. Now, when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived that, a little before them, was a solemn noise of one that was much concerned. So they went on and looked before them ; and behold they saw, as they thought, , . , -i.! 1 1 1 TP, Stand-fast upon a man upon his knees, with hands and eyes lift his knees in the 1 1 • J.1 J.1 1 i. ii j_ Euchauted ground. up, and speaking, as they thought, earnestly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said. So they went softly tdl he had done. When he had done, he got up, and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, saying, Soho ! friend, let us have your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to tlie Celestial City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I know this man. Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Prithee, who The stoiy of is it ? It is one, said he, who comes from where- titandiiist. ' The ^Vord of God is the only light to direct our steps. " Thy word is a lamp unto m) feet, and a lifiht unto my path." 348 THE pilgeim's peogkkss. abouts I dwelt. His name is Stand- fast; he is certainly a riglit good pilgrim. So they came up one to another ; and presently Stand-fast said to old Honest, Ho ! father Honest, are you there ? Aye, Talk between him ^^^^ -b®* ^^^^ I ^^^j ^^ ^^^^^ ^^ 7°^ ^^^ there. and Mr. Honest, j^igj^^ glad am I, Said Mr. Stand-fast, that I have found you on this road. And as glad am I, said the other, that I espied you upon your knees. Then Mr. Stand-fast blushed, and said, But why, did you see me ? Yes, that I did, quoth the ether, and with my heart was glad at the sight. Why, whafc did you tbiclc ? said Stand-fast. Think ! said old Honest, what should I think ? I thought we had an honest man upon the road, and therefore should have his company by and by. If ■vou thought not amiss, said Stand-fast, how happy am I ; but if I be not as I should, I alone must bear it. That is true, said the other ; but your fear doth further confirm me, that things are right betwixt the Prince of Pilgrims and your soul j for, saith he, "Blessed is the man that feareth always." Valiakt. Well, but brother, I pray thee tell us what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now ? The found him Was it for that some special mercies laid obliga- at prayer, tions upon thee, or how ? Stand-past. Why, Ave are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Grround ; and as I was coming along, I was What it was that . . , , tp n -i i n ■» fetched him upon musiug With myselt 01 w'hat a dangerous road '*^ '^°^^' the road in this place was, and how many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here been stopped and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of the death ■with which this place destroyeth men. Those that die here die of no violent distemper. The death which such die is not grievous to them ; for he that goeth away in a sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure ; yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Hon. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did you Bee the two men asleep in the arbour ? Stand-past. Aye, aye, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there ; and, for aught I know, there they will lie till they rot. Prov. X. 7. But let me go on in my tale. As I was thus musiug, as THE pilgeim's peogeess. 349 I said, there 'W'as one in very pleasant attire, but old, who pre- sented herself unto me, and offered me three things ; to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the truth is, I was both a-weary and sleepy ; I am also as poor as an owlet, and that, perhaps, the witch knew. "Well, I repulsed her once and twice, but she put by my repulses, and smiled. Then I began to be angry ; but she mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, and said, If I would be ruled by her, she would make me great and happy ; for, said she, I am the mistress of the world, and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name, and she told me it was Madame Bubble, jiadam Bubble This set me further from her: but she still fol- or this vain woricL lowed me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you saw, to my knees ; and with hands lift up, and cries, I prayed to him that had said he would help."* So, just as you came up, the gentlewoman went her way. Then I continued to give thanks for this my great deliverance ; for I verily believe she intended no good, but rather sought to make stop of me in my journey. IIo:n-. Without doubt her designs were bad. But stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have read some story of her. Stakd-fast. Perhaps you have done both. Hon. Madame Bubble ! is she not a tall, comely dame, some- thing of a swarthy complexion? Stand-fast. Right, you hit it, she is just such a one. Hon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of a sentence ? Standfast. Tou fall right upon it again, for these are her very actions. Hon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side ; and is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that was her heart's delight ? Stand-fast. It is just so ; had she stood by all this while, Prayer's arrow drawn Down to the head by nervous penitence, Or meek humility's compliant strings, Wings to the destined mark its certain way, And ne'er was shot in vain ! 350 THE pilgeim's progress. you cou-d not more amply have set her forth before me, nor have better described her features. Hon. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that wrote of her said true. GrEEAT-HEAET. This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted. "Whoever doth lay their head down in her lap, had as good lay it down upon that block over which the axe doth hang ; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, are counted the enemies of God. James iv. 4; 1 John ii. 15. This is she that maintaineth in their splendour all those that are the enemies of pilgrims. Tea, this is she that hath bought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a great gossipper ; she is always, both she and her daughters, at one pilgrim's heels or another, now commending and then preferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut ; she will talk with any man. She always laugheth poor pilgrims to scorn ; but highly commends the rich. If there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house ; she loveth banqueting and feasting mainly well ; she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in Bome places, that she is a goddess, and therefore some do worship her. She has her times and open places of cheating; and she will say and avow it, that none can show a good com- parable to hers. She promiseth to dwell with children's chil- dren, if they will but love and make much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold like dust, in some places, and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of com- mending her commodities, and she loves them most that think best of her. She will promise to some crowns and kingdoms, if they will but take her advice ; yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. Stand-east. Oh, said Stand-fast, what a mercy is it that I did resist ! for whither might she have drawn me ! Great-heaet. Whither! nay, none but God knows whither. But, in general, to be sure, she would have drawn thee into THE pilgeim's psogeess. 953. "many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruc- tion and perdition." 1 Tim. vi. 9. It was she Ihat set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. It was she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demas to forsake the godly pilgrims' life ; none can tell of the mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbour and neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, betwixt a mau and himself, betwixt the flesh and the heart. Wherefore, good Master Stand-fast, be as your name is, and "when you have done all. Stand." At this discourse there was, among the Pilgrims, a mixture of joy and trembling ; but at length they brake out, and sang — Wliat danger is the pilgrim in, How many are his foes ! How many ways there are to sin No living mortal knows. Some of the ditch shy are, yet can Lie tumbling in the mire ; Some, though they shun the frying-pan, Do leap into the fire. After this, I beheld until they were come unto the Land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day." ^. ^ ^ ^ ^^^, ' 111 First Part, p. ISS. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves awhile to rest ; and, because this country Avas common for pilgrims, and because the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the Celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep ; and yet they received as much re- freshing as if they had slept their sleep ever so soundly. Here " Bright as a sun the sacred city shines, All kingdoms and all princes of the earth Flock to that light ; the glory of all lands Flows into her ; unbounded is her joy, And endless her increase. 352 THi pilgrim's peogeess. also all the noise of themtliat walked in the streets, was, More pilgrims are come to town. And another would answer, say- ing, And so many went over the water, and were let in at the golden gates to-day. They would cry again. There is now a legion of Shining Ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road ; for here they come to wait for them, and to comfort them after all their sorrow. Then the Pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro ; but how were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their ej^es delighted with celestial visions ! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing, that was offensive to their stomach or mind ; only when they tasted of the water of the river ihe iicsh, but ovcr whicli they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was down. In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here also much discoursed, how the river to some had had its llowiuin;s, and Death has its . . . ebbings and flow- what ebbiugs it has had while others have gone iugs like the tide. tj, i i • i r over, it has been m a manner dry lor some, while it has overflowed its banks for others. In this place the children of the town would go into the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the Pilgrims, and bring them to them with much afiection. Here also grew cam- phire, with spikenard, and saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all its trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. "With these the Pilgrims' chambers were perfumed, while they staid here ; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river when the time appointed was come. Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the town that there was a post Death sent to come ffom the Celestial City, with matter of great importance to one Christiana, the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. Sj inquiry was made for her, and the THE pilgeim's peogkess. 353 bouse was found out where she was ; so the post presented her with a letter, the contents whereof were, " Hail, ' -Til His message. good woman! I bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldesfc stand in his presence, in clothes of immortality, within these ten days." "When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was an How welcome is c-row with a point sharpened with love, let ^f^fe^n^Vhi^'to'do easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought b"t to die. so effectually with her, that at the time appointed she must be gone." "When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she was the first of this company that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-heart her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. Then she gg^ speecii to her bid that he should give advice how all things euide. should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying, thus and thus it must be ; and we that survive will accompany you to the river side. Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing and told them, that she yet read with comfort ^ , ' • 1 ■ /. 1 1 1 T° ^®i' children. the mark that was set m their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sous and her daughters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, and said unto him. Sir, you have in all places showed yourself true-hearted; "be faithful unto death," and ' These messengers are the diseases or decays by which the Lord takes down the earthly tabernacle, when he sees good to receive the souls of his people into Lis immediate presence. " The arrow sharpened by love" implies, that tlie time, manner, and circumstances of the believer's death, are appointed by him " who loved us, and gave himself for us." He, a& i were, says to the dying saint " It is I, be not afraid." 354 THE pilgeim's peoguess. my King will give you " a crown of life." I would also en- treat you to have an eye to my children; and if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. Por my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a ful- filling of the promise upon them will be their To Mr. Stand-fast. , -nii -»i-i.i/_ ^ c j. end. But she gave Mr. btand-last a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, " Be- hold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." Then said he, I wish you a fair day when you set out for Mount Zion, and shall be glad to see that you go over the river dry-shod. But she answered. Come wet, come dry, I long to be gone ; for, however the weather is in my iourney, I shall have time enough when I come there to sit down and rest me and dry me. Then came in that good man Mr. Eeady-to-halt to see her. To Mr. Ready-to- ^0 she Said to him, Thy travel hither has been Halt. ^^[^Y^ difficulty ; but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready ; for at an hour when you think not, the messenger may come. After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much- To Despondency afraid, to whom she said. You ought with thank- and bis daughter. f^;[JJegg for ever to remember your deliverance from the hands of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. The efleot of that mercy is, that you are brought with safety hither. Be ye watchful, and cast away fear ; " be sober, and hope to the end." Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay- good, that thou mightest e-mm . ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^.^^^ ^^ ^^^ living for ever, and see thy King with comfort ; only I advise thee to repent thee of thine aptness to fear and doubt of his goodness, before he sends for thee ; lest thou shouldest, when he comes, be forced to stand before him, for that fault, with blushing. Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But, behold, all the banks beyond the river were full and^LauMi-^'f of horses and chariots, which were come down departure. ^^^^ abovc to accompany her to the city gate> THE pilgkim's PEOGKESS. 355 So she came forth, and entered the river, with a beckon of fare- ■well to those that followed her to the river side. The last words that she was heard to say here were, I come, Lord, to be with thee, and bless thee. So her children and friends returned to their place, for that those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had done before her. At her departure her children wept ; but Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well-tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places. In process of time there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Eead^'-to-halt. So he Ready-to-hait inquired him out, and said to him, I am come summoued. to thee in the name of him whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches ; and my message is to tell thee, that he expects thee at his table to sup with him, in his kingdom, the next day after Easter ; wherefore prepare thyself for this journey. Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord. Ec. xii. 6. After this, Mr. Eeady-to-halt called for his fellow-pilgrims, and told them, saying, I am sent for, and G-od shall surely visit you also. So he desired JMr. Valiant to make his wdl ; and because he had nothing to bequeath to them that should survive him but his crutches and his good wishes, therefore thus he said. These crutches I bequeath to my son that promis^g shall tread in my steps, with a himdred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have done. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his conduct and kind- ness, and so addressed himself to his journey. AVhen he came at the brink of the river, he said. Now I shall have no more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and horses for me to ride on. The last words he was _ , , , -.-^ , !•/• 1 o 1 j_ His last words. heard to say was. Welcome hie ! do he went his way. 350 TUB pilgeim's pbogeess. After this, Mr. Peeble-mmd had tidings brought him, that Fecbie-miiid sum- ^he post sounded his horn at his chamber'-door mouocu Then he came in, and told hmi, saying, I am come to tell thee that thy master hath need of thee ; and that, in very little time, thou must behold his face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of my message, " Those that look out of the windows shall be darkened. "i* Ec. xii. 3. Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them ■nhat errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the message. Then he said, Since I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what pur- Hc makes no will. ^ ^ J' i' pose should i make a will c As lor my ieeble mind, that I will leave behind me, for that, I have no need of that in the place whither I go. Nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrim ; wherefore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a dunghill. This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest. His last words were,Hold out, faith and patience. So he went over to the other side. "When days had many of them passed awaj^, Mr. Despondency Mr. Despondency's ^^^ ^^nt for ; for a post was come, and brought summous. i\^[^ message to him : Trembling man, these are to summon thee to be ready with thy King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy for thy deliverance from all thy doubtings. And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take this for a proof; so he gave him the grasshopper to be a burden His daughter unto him. Ec. xii. 5. Now, Mr. Despondency's goes too. daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, when she heard what was done, that she would go with her father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends. Myself and my daughter, you know what we have been, and how trouble- somely we have behaved ourselves in every company. My will and my daughter's is, that our desponds and slavish fears be by no man ever received, from the day of our departure, for ever ; for I know that after my f The tokens are taken from that ■well-known portiou of Scripture, Ec. xii. 1 — 7; in whicli the dealings of the Lord are represented as uniformly gentle to the feeble, trembl'.ng, humble, believer; and the circumstances of thek deaths com- paratively encouraging and easy. THE pilgeim's peogeess. 357 death they "will offer themselves to others.? For, to be plain with you, they are ghosts the which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after; and they will walk about and seek entertainment of the pil- grims ; but, for our sakes, shut ye the doors upon them. When the time was come for them to depart, they went to the brink of the river. The last words of Mr. Despondency were. Farewell night, welcome day. His daughter went through the river singing, but none coidd understand what she said.'' Then it came to pass, a while after, that there was a post iu the town that inquired for Mr. Honest. So he jjj, H^ng,(. came to his house where he was, and delivered nioned. to his hand these lines : Thou art commanded to be ready against this day seven-night, to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's house. And for a token that my messa"-e is true, " All thy daughters of music shall be brought low." Ec. xii. 4. Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me; let him that ^^ '"'^'^^^ >^° ^"i- comes after be told of this. When the day that he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over the river. Now the river at that time overflowed the banks in some places • but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to ^ -, . . J T • , 1 1 Good conscience one (xood-conscience to meet him there, the helps Mr. Honest which he also did; and lent him his hand, and so °^^^ enver. helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, Grrace reigns. So he left the world. 9 In the Holy War, the doubters having been dispersed, three or foiir thrust themselves into Mansoul. " Now, to whose house should these Diabolian doubters j;o, but to that of old Evil-questioning. So he made them welcome. 'AVell,'said he, ' be of what shire you will, you have the very length of my foot, are one with my heart.' So they thanked him. 'I,' said one, 'am an election-doubter;' ' I,' said another, ' am a vocation-doubter;' then, said the third, 'I am a salvation- doubter;' and the fourth said, ' I am a grace-doubter.' ' I am persuaded you aro down boys, and are one with my heart,' said the old gentleman." »• How various is the experience of Christians in the hour of death. Christian and Hopeful inquired " if the waters were all of a depth." The answer was, "You shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place." As a Christian can say," for me to live is Christ," so may heliope to find the v.ate* Bhallow, and feel support to hia feet in the trying passage. 358 5?HB PILGBIM's PI10&EES3. After tliis it was noised abroad, tliat Mr. Valiant-for-trutli Mr. Valiant ^^3 taken witli a summons by the same post as summouod. ^|^g other; and had this for a token that the summons was true, " That his pitcher was broken at the foun- tain." Ec. xii. 6. When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father's ; and though with great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought his battles who now will be my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river side, into which as he went he said, " Death, where is thy sting?" And as he went down deeper, wor s. ^^ ^^^^^ ^j G-rave, where is thy victory ?" So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side. Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Stand-fast — this Mr. stand-fast is Mr. Stand-fast was he that the rest of the Pil- summoned. grimg found upou his kuces in the Enchanted G-round — for the post brought it him open in his hands. The contents whereof were, that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Standfast was put into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you need not doubt the truth of my message, for here is a token of the truth thereof: " Thy wheel is broken at the cistern." Ec. xii. 6. Then he called He calls for Mr. ^^1*0 ^^^ ^^^- Great-heart, who was their guide, Great-heart. ^^^^ g^id vinto him. Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company in the days of my pil- grimage ; yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I His speech to him. ^^^^ ijehiud me a wife and five small children ; let me entreat you, at your return (for I know that you will go and return to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a conductor to more of the holy pilgrims), that you send to my family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath THE PIiaEIM's PEOGUESS. 359 or shall happen unto me. Tell them, moreover, ^is emxnd to his of my happy arrival to this place, and of the family, present [and] late blessed condition that I am in. Tell them also of Christian, and Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whither she has gone. I have little or nothing to send to my family, except it be prayers and tears for them ; of which it will suffice if thou acquaint them, if peradventure they may prevail. When Mr. Stand-fast had thus set things in order, and the time being come for him to haste him away, he also went down to the river. 'Now there was a great calm at that time in the river; wherefore ]Mr. Standfast, when he was about half-way in, stood awhile, and talked to his companions that had waited upon him thither ; and he said. This river has been a terror to many ; yea, the thoughts of it also have often frightened me. Now, methinks, I stand easy, my foot is fixed upon that upon which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, while Israel went over this Jordan. Jos. iii. 17. The waters, indeed, are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold ; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end of my journey, my toilsome days are ended. I am going now to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me. I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose com- pany I delight myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. His name has been to me as a civet-box ; vea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet ; and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His word I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. " He baa 360 THE PILQimi'S PEOOEESa. held me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities ; yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his way."'' l!^ow, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance changedjhis strong man bowed under him; andafter he had said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased to be seen of them. But glorious it was to see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, wdth singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city.* As for Christian's children, the four boys that Christiana brought with her, with their wives and childien, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I came away, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the chtjech in that place where they were, for a time. Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account of what I here am silent about." Mean- time, I bid my reader AniEtr. ' This speech has been justly admired. It is Trortliy of our observation, that, in all the instances before us, the pilgrims rest their only dependence, at the closing scene, on the mercy of God, through the righteousness and atonement of his Son ; and yet recollect their conscious integrity and love to the cause, example, and words of Christ. " Oh, who is able to conceive the inexpressible, inconceivable joys of heaven. How will the heavens echo with joy, when the bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell with her husband for ever ! Christ, the desire of nations, the joy of angels, the delight of the Father; what solace then must the soul be filled with, that hath the possession of him to all eternity ! Oh what acclamations of joy will there be, when all the children of God shall meet together, without fear of being disturbed by the anticliristian and Cainish brood! If you would be better satisfied what the beatifical vision means, my request is, that you would live liolily, and go and see." [58] " The view of the peaceful and joyful death of the pilgrims, cannot but affect evei-y reader; and many, perhaps, may be ready to say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his;" but, except they make it their principal concern to live the life of the righteous, such a wish will be frustrated. The Lord grant that both writer and readers " may find mercy in that day," and be addressed in these gracious words, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Angel Court, Skinner Street, London. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY "" I'll! |!i III mil nil Ml II I III ill II AA 000 264 050 6