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HE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 BUNYAN 
 
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 A'oy: FALLS \i>ox CHIUSTIAN. 
 (See pay e T2.) 
 
OXFORD EDITION 
 
 THE 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN 
 
 WITH BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 AND NEW INDEX 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH 25 DRAWINGS 
 BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK 
 
 HENRY FROWDE 
 OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE 
 
 1912 
 

 
 
 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PART I 
 
 APOLLYON FALLS UPON CHRISTIAN . . . Frontispiece 
 
 CHRISTIAN BREAKS OUT WITH A LAMENTABLE CRY . . Page 11 
 
 CHRISTIAN FLEES FROM THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION . . 15 
 
 HELP LIFTS CHRISTIAN OUT OF THE SLOUGH OF DISPOND . 20 
 
 EVANGELIST FINDS CHRISTIAN UNDER MOUNT SINAI . . 25 
 
 CHRISTIAN AT THE WICKET-GATE ..... 32 
 
 THE DUSTY PARLOUR IN THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE . 38 
 
 x*N r 
 
 ""^CHRISTIAN LOSES HIS BURDEN AT THE CROSS ... 47 
 CHRISTIAN RECEIVES HIS ROLL ..... 49 
 
 CHRISTIAN PASSES THE LIONS IN THE WAY ... 57 
 THE FLIGHT OF APOLLYON ...... 73 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH ... 79 
 CHRISTIAN GOES UNHURT BY GIANT POPE ... 83 
 Y FAIR . . . . . . . . .109 
 
 THE CRUEL DEATH OF FAITHFUL . . ... .119 
 
 THE PILGRIMS SEE A STRANGE MONUMENT . . . 133 
 GIANT DESPAIR BEATS HIS PRISONERS . . . .141 
 
 CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL IN THE KING'S VINEYARDS . 185 
 PILGRIMS PASSING THROUGH THE RIVER OF DEATH . 187 
 
 PART II 
 
 * 
 
 CHRISTIANA INSTRUCTED BY SECRET . . . . . 
 
 MERCY AT THE GATE ....... 227 
 
 THE FIGHT BETWIXT GRIM AND GREAT-HEART . . 261 
 
 THE MONUMENT OF CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY . . . 287 
 
 THE MONSTER BELABOURED .... . 329 
 
 GIANT DESPAIR SLAIN AND DOUBTING CASTLE DEMOLISHED 337 
 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY EDMUND VENABLES, M.A. 
 
 Late Precentor and Canon of Lincoln. 
 
 REVISED BY Miss MABEL PEACOCK. 
 
 HHE birthplace of John Bunyan was .Elstow, a small 
 JL village rather more than a mile to the south of the town 
 of Bedford. The original form of the name of Elstow was 
 Ellen-stow., the stow l or place of St. Helen, one of our few 
 early British saints, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, 
 under whose patronage the village was originally placed. 
 Elstow was the seat of a Benedictine nunnery, founded in 
 
 / ^ 
 
 1078 by Judith, niece to William the Conqueror, and -widow 
 of Waltheof, Earl of Huntingdon ; and Elstow nunnery, or 
 abbey, continued to rank among the most wealthy of similar 
 foundations till the Dissolution. The abbey was surrendered 
 to the crown Aug. 26 JK ^40 V , The sisters had pensions granted 
 to them out of the estates, and several of them continued 
 to live quietly close to their old home in the town of Bedford. 
 The register of the united parishes of St. Mary and St. Peter 
 Dunstaple in that town contains the entry of the burial of 
 four of them. The monastic property passed to Sir Humphrey 
 Ratcliffe, brother to the Earl of Sussex, who made the convent 
 his place of residence. He died there in 1566, and was buried 
 in the chancel. From the Ratcliifes the property passed to 
 the Hillersdens, by whom a mansion was erected early in the 
 seventeenth century, which must have been a grand new 
 house in Bunyan's early days. The ivy-clad ruins form 
 a picturesque feature on the south side of the church. 
 Attached to the south-west corner is a beautiful little apart- 
 ment of the fourteenth century, vaulted from a central pillar, 
 
 1 The Anglo-Saxon stow* a dwelling-place or habitation, forms an 
 element in many local names. 
 
 A3 
 
x BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 which may have been the chapter-house. The church, so 
 intimately connected with Bimyan's history, which is only 
 
 ti 
 
 the nave of the abbey church, is a building of unusual loftiness 
 '-and dignity, partly rude Norman, partly Early English, with 
 five well-proportioned arches, and an Early English cleres- 
 tory. The octagonal font, in which we may conclude that 
 John Bunyan was himself baptized, as we learn from the 
 parish registers his two daughters, Mary (his beloved blind 
 child) (July 20, 1650) and Elizabeth (April 14, 1654) certainly 
 were, stands at the west door, but originally stood in the 
 north aisle, facing the entrance door. The seat assigned by 
 long-standing tradition to John Bunyan is an old open oaken 
 bench in the north aisle, facing the pulpit, and polished by 
 the hands of the thousands of visitors yearly attracted to this 
 little village by the fame of the tinker of Elstow, As the 
 seat now faces south instead of east, it must have been moved 
 from its original position. The pulpit, of a pentagonal form, 
 must be looked on with no common interest, as that from 
 which the sermon was preached by Christopher Hall, the 
 then ( parson ' of Elstow, which first awoke Bunyan's slumber- 
 ing conscience. The tower, or ( steeple-house,' the scene of 
 Bunyan's bell-ringing exploits, as well as of the fierce struggles 
 of conscience so graphically described, is a massive detached 
 structure strongly buttressed, standing twenty-one feet from 
 the church at its north-west corner. It is of late Perpendicular 
 work, built after the destruction of the central tower and 
 choir of the monastic church. The five bells that hang in 
 it are the same in which Bunyan so much delighted. Tra- 
 dition says that the fourth bell is the one he was accustomed 
 to ring. The rough flagged floor, all worn and broken with 
 the hobnailed boots of generations of ringers, happily remains 
 undisturbed. The ' steeple-door ' is in all respects the same 
 as when he used to stand in it, hoping ( if a bell should fall ' 
 he could ' slip out ' safely behind the thick walls, which show 
 as little tendency to ruin as in Bunyan's days. 
 
 / * * 
 
 The church stands on the south side of the tillage green, 
 
BUNYAN'S PARENTAGE xi 
 
 a wide expanse of turf, very little altered either in its 
 character or surroundings from the time when John Bunyan 
 was the ringleader of all the youth of the place in the dances 
 on the sward, ' tipcat/ and the other sports which his morbid 
 conscience afterwards regarded as ' ungodly practices.' Few 
 villages are so little modernized as Elstow. The old half- 
 timbered cottages with overhanging storeys, gabled porches 
 and peaked dormers, tapestried with roses and honeysuckles, 
 must be much the same as in the days of the Commonwealth, 
 On the green may still be seen the stump of the ancient 
 market cross, and at the upper end is a quaint old brick 
 and timber building, with well-carved corner-posts and spars 
 supporting the jutting upper-storey, which in former days, 
 when Elstow was a more important place than now, served 
 as a market-house, or moot-hall. In the large upper room 
 the village dancers held their revels when the cold of winter 
 drove them in from the green. The cottage where Bunyan 
 was born, if its site was ever accurately known, has long since 
 passed away. That occupied by him after his first marriage, 
 and where his children were born, is still standing, but modern 
 repairs have robbed it of all its picturesqueiiess. 
 
 John Bunyan was born in the year l62JL-a year remarkable 
 in English history for the ' Petition of Right,' and the assassi- 
 nation of the Duke of Buckingham. His father was a tinker 
 (f a mender of pots and kettles,' writes Charles Doe), or what 
 we should now call a ' whitesmith,' or ' brazier,' for he had 
 a settled home at Elstow. Still, as we know from con- 
 temporary literature, his calling was low and disreputable, 
 'of that rank,' in his own words, 'that is the meanest and 
 most despised in the land.' Although the surname of Bunyan 
 has now almost died out in Bedfordshire, it is of long-standing 
 tjaere, and was at one time very common l . This effectually 
 
 1 Dr. Brown has proved from the evidence of assize-rolls, manorial 
 court-rolls, wills, and other historical documents, that at one time the 
 Bunyans were a yeoman family of good position. John Bunyan: His 
 Life, Times, and Work, by John Brown, B.A., D.D. 
 
xii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 dispels the idea, alluded to with favour by Sir Walter Scott, 
 that Bunyan was of gypsy descent, to establish which a good 
 deal of misdirected learning and research has been employed. 
 Bunyan's inquiry of his father whether he was descended from 
 the Israelites or not, is entirely beside the mark ; for there is 
 no reason to suppose that he could have had any acquaintance 
 with the strange hallucination that the gypsies are to be 
 regarded as the representatives of the ten lost tribes. The 
 name Bunyan appeared in many different forms in those days 
 of unsettled orthography and phonetic spelling. Bunyan 
 himself spelt it in several different w r ays. In the parish 
 register of Elstow we find Bonion, Bunion, Bonyon, Bunyon, 
 and Bunyan. The last form, which has become universally 
 accepted, is certainly the least frequent. 
 
 Poor as his parents were they did not neglect to send their 
 son John to school. However, he learnt but little, and that 
 little he confesses with shame he soon lost, ' almost utterly.' 
 His hand-writing, as exhibited in the margin of the copy of 
 Fox's Acts and Monuments, which was his companion in prison, 
 is a vile scrawl, on a par with the badness of the spelling 
 and the rudeness of his doggerel rhymes. His boyhood was 
 spent in his native village, where he grew up what Coleridge 
 calls ' a bitter blackguard ' ; having, according to his own 
 confession, ' but few equals ' even when a child ' for cursing, 
 swearing, lying, and blaspheming the name of God.' The 
 unmeasured language in which he laments his youthful mis- 
 deeds has led to a very mistaken estimate of his character, 
 which, handed on from one writer to another until it became 
 almost a matter of faith, Southey was the first to demolish. 
 ' The wickedness of the tinker,' he writes, ' has been greatly 
 overcharged, and it is taking the language of self-accusation 
 too literally to pronounce of John Bunyan that lie was at 
 any time depraved.' It is certain from his own solemn 
 declaration when, at a later period of his life, charges of 
 immorality w T ere brought against him, that lie was entirely 
 guiltless of sins of impurity. There is not a shadow of 
 
YOUTHFUL PURSUITS xiii 
 
 evidence that he was ever drunk in his life. He acknow- 
 ledges to a habit of profane swearing, acquired when a child, 
 and indulged in without restraint till after his marriage, so 
 that he became celebrated as ' a town-swearer ' ; shocking 
 those who were by no means spotless themselves with the 
 abundance and vehemence of his oaths. But the offences 
 of which he speaks with the deepest self-condemnation were 
 the very venial crimes of dancing, bell-ringing, ballad-reading, 
 and an eagerness for all kinds of sports and pastimes. True 
 they were practised on the Sunday. According to the 
 standard of the Book of Sports, however, that was a merit 
 rather than a crime. But while to the ordinary observer 
 Bunyan would only be known as a gay, daring young fellow, 
 the ringleader at wake or merrymaking, ready, in Coleridge's 
 words, ( to curse his own or his companions' eyes on slight or 
 no provocation, and fond of a row,' from his earliest years his 
 inner life, known only to himself, had been of a very different 
 complexion. While still a child, f but nine or ten years old/ 1 
 he was racked with convictions of sin and haunted with 
 religious terrors. He specially mentions c the fearful dreams 
 and dreadful visions ' w r hich scared and affrighted him in his 
 childhood, and ' the apprehension of devils and wicked spirits' 
 coming to carry him off which made his bed a place of 
 terrors. The thought of the Day of Judgement and the 
 doom of the ungodly crushed his spirit. In the midst of his 
 games and pastimes with other boys ' vain companions ' his 
 morbid feelings led him to call them the recollection of 
 these nightly horrors threw a cloud over his merriment. 
 But it was only a passing shadow. After a while his feverish 
 dreams left him, and the youthful pleasures to which he gave 
 himself up unrestrainedly quickly cut off all remembrance of 
 them as if they had never been. They, however, left their 
 mark, and helped to shape his mind, which was naturally one 
 of powerful imagination and vivid susceptibility, for the task 
 which has made him famous. 
 
 The preservation of his life, more than once under oireum- 
 
xiv BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 stances of imminent danger 'judgements mixed with mercy ' 
 as he afterwards termed them deepened the undercurrent 
 of religious feeling. Twice he fell into the water and hardly 
 escaped drowning. At another time his reckless daring 
 brought him, as he mistakenly thought, near being stung 
 to death by an adder. But that which made the greatest 
 impression upon him ' which,' says his anonymous biographer, 
 ' Mr. Bunyan would often mention, but never without thanks- 
 giving to God' was the one incident preserved to us from 
 his life as a soldier. It is best told in his own words 
 f When I w r as a soldier I with others were drawn out to so to 
 
 O 
 
 such a place to besiege it. But when I was just ready to go, 
 one of the company desired to go in my room ; to which when 
 I consented he took my place, and coming to the siege, as he 
 stood sentinel, lie was shot in the head with a musket bullet 
 and died.' We wish he had told us more. The name of the 
 besieged place, and even the cause for which he took up arms, 
 are left in complete obscurity. In the absence of definite 
 information fancy has taken the place of fact, and a historical 
 fabric has been built on a very sandy foundation. Leicester 
 
 / 
 
 being the only town of the siege of which we have any certain 
 evidence at this time suggested that it might have been the 
 place referred to by Bunyan. An examination of the military 
 history of the campaign, as has been shown by Dr. Brown l , 
 leads to a very different conclusion, and proves that it is most 
 improbable that a levy from Bedford should have served at 
 Leicester, especially on the Royalist side 2 . 
 
 When Bunyan's military career was over he soon returned 
 to his native village, and ' presently afterwards changed his 
 condition into a married state.' The date of this, his first 
 
 1 Book of the Jhmyan Festival, pp. 4-7. 
 
 2 In 1896 Mr. E! G. Atkinson, of the Public Record Office, dis- 
 covered there a volume containing the muster-rolls of the parliamentary 
 garrison of Newport Pagnell. John Bunyan's name appears in these 
 lists. On November 30, 1644, he was a private, or, as it was then 
 termed, a ' centinel,' in the company commanded by Colonel Richard 
 
EARLY MARRIAGE xv 
 
 marriage, is not known, but it seems to have been at the 
 end of 1648 or the beginning of 1649, when he was not 
 much more than twenty years of age. His marriage was 
 a most imprudent one in all respects but one. He had 
 nothing, and his wife was as ill-provided w r ith worldly goods 
 as himself e as poor as poor might be/ c as poor as owlets/ 
 to adopt his own image without 'so much household stuff 
 as a dish or spoon between them.' But though not seeking 
 it he had the good fortune to light on a wife, whose ' father 
 while he liVed was counted godly/ who brought to her new 
 home two pious books, as well as the fruits of a religious 
 training. Such books would be entirely new reading to John 
 Bunyan. Like most young fellows of his temperament, before 
 his wife's loving influence had won him to more serious 
 thoughts,, he had found religious books distasteful. f The 
 Scriptures/ thought I, ' what are they ? a dead letter, a little 
 ink and paper of three or four shillings price. Give me 
 a ballad, a news book, George on horseback, or Bevis of 
 Southampton ; give me some book that teaches curious arts, 
 that tells of old fables 1 .' These books which Bunyan and 
 
 Cockayne. On March 22, 1645, he appears in the list of Major 
 Boulton's company ; and he was regularly mustered in Major Boulton's 
 company up to May 27, 1645. His presence at Newport on May 27, 
 1645, renders the theory that he was at the siege of Leicester im- 
 possible. According to Mr. Atkinson, Bunyan was still a member 
 of one of the companies belonging to the Newport garrison as late as 
 June 17, 1647. His military service, therefore, lasted about three 
 years. 
 
 Facsimiles of the muster-rolls containing Bunyan's name are given 
 in The Presbyterian for March 3, 1898. 
 
 Colonel Richard Cockayne, under whom Bunyan served, appears 
 to have been a Bedfordshire man of some note. See Ed. Husband, 
 A Collection of Orders, Ordinances, and Declarations, 1646 (vol. ii), 
 p. 193 ; Whitelock, Memorials, ed. 1732, p. 168 ; ed. 1853, vol. i. p. 
 501. A book entitled Cockayne Memoranda, printed for private 
 circulation in 1869 at Congleton, contains an account of the various 
 branches of the Cockayne family. A second volume of the work by 
 the same author, A. E. Cockayne, appeared in 1873. 
 
 1 Sighs from Hell -, Works, vol. i. p. 501, ed. 1767. 
 
xvi BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 his young wife read together over the fireside awoke the 
 slumbering sense of religion in his heart, and produced 
 some external reformation. A sermon on the sin of Sabbath- 
 breaking, aimed, as he imagined, expressly at him, sent him 
 home conscience stricken, ' sermon smitten,' and ' sermon 
 sick,' as he expresses it elsewhere. But his Sunday's dinner, 
 and perhaps a glass of good ale, ^oon dispelled his gloom, 
 and he went out as before to play with the young men 
 of Elstow on the village green. Yet in the midst of his 
 game of tipcat or c sly ' he seemed to hear a voice from 
 heaven asking him whether he w r ould leave his sins and go 
 to heaven, or keep his sins and go to hell ; and thought he 
 saw a threatening Face frowning down on him from the 
 clouds. But, like his own Hopeful, he ( shut his eyes against 
 the light' and smothered the reproaching voice, and, con- 
 cluding that his condemnation was already sealed, and that 
 if he was to be eternally lost he might as well have his fill 
 of pleasure first, he returned desperately to his sport again. 
 This despair and recklessness lasted with him about a month 
 or more, till one day as he w r as standing at a neighbour's 
 shop-window, cursing and swearing, and playing the madman 
 after his wonted manner, the woman of the house, though 
 ' a very loose and ungodly wretch,' rebuked him so severely 
 .as f the ugliest fellow for swearing that ever she heard,' that 
 he hung down his head with shame, and, though he still 
 thought himself beyond hope of salvation, he then and there 
 gave up the evil habit. 
 
 Soon after this the company of a poor godly neighbour led 
 him to the study of the Bible, the historical parts of which he 
 perused with much interest. St. Paul's Epistles and f such 
 like scriptures ' he ( could not away with.' This Bible reading 
 forwarded the reformation of life already begun. ' In out- 
 ward things/ writes Lord Macaulay, ' ho soon became a strict 
 Pharisee'; ' a poor painted hypocrite' he calls himself. He 
 was constant in attendance at prayers and sermons, and joined 
 devoutly in the service, looking with the utmost reverence 
 
A STRANGER TO VITAL RELIGION xvii 
 
 on the Church and all belonging to it, f priest, clerk, vestment, 
 service, and what else.' His favourite amusements were one 
 after another given up, though not without severe struggles. 
 Bell-ringing was one of the hardest to relinquish, and, after 
 he had renounced it, he still went to look on at the ringers 
 until the fear that, if he persisted in sanctioning what his 
 conscience condemned, a bell or the tower itself would fall on 
 his head, compelled him to forgo even that compromise. 
 Dancing was still harder to give up. It was a full year before 
 he could quite leave that. 
 
 But w r ith all his sacrifices, which gained him great peace 
 of conscience and supreme self-satisfaction, the conversation 
 of a few poor women, whom he overheard one day at Bedford 
 when engaged in his tinker's craft, sitting at a door in the sun 
 and talking of the things of God, showed him that he was 
 still a stranger to vital religion. They were members of 
 the congregation of Mr. John Gifford, who, from being one 
 of the most debauched of the Royalist officers, had become 
 minister of a Nonconformist Church at Bedford. He himself 
 had been ( a brisk talker ' in the matters of religion, such 
 as he afterwards drew from the life in his own ' Talkative.' 
 Their words, spoken with 'such pleasantness, and such 
 appearance of grace,' opened c a new world ' to him to which 
 he had been altogether a stranger. He went again and again 
 into their company, and could not stay away. Religion be- 
 came all in all to him. His mind ( lay fixed on eternity like 
 a Horse-leech at the vein.' The Bible became c precious' to 
 him, and w r as read with new eyes ; but through his ignorance, 
 and the want of wise spiritual guidance, he was led by a 
 misinterpretation of its words into strange fantasies, the wild 
 coinage of his own brain, which went near to unsettle his 
 intellect. He became the victim of his own ingenuity in 
 self-torment. At one time the stress laid on faith as the 
 essential requisite for salvation awoke a restless longing to 
 determine whether he had faith or not. The test would be 
 his ability to work miracles, and the temptation came strong 
 
xviii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 upon him as he was going along the muddy road between 
 Elstow and Bedford,, to say to the puddles ' Be dry,' and to 
 the dry places ' Be ye puddles/ and to stake his hope of 
 salvation on the issue. At another time he was harassed 
 with the insoluble questions about predestination and election. 
 ( How could he tell if he was elected ? and if not, what then ? ' 
 He might as well leave off and strive no further. 
 
 Few of his religious experiences were the cause of more 
 lasting trouble to him than a dream which he describes with 
 much vividness, and which gives us a kind of prevision of 
 the Pilgrim's Progress. In this he saw some enjoying them- 
 selves in the sunshine on one side of a high mountain, while 
 he was shivering in the dark and cold on the other, and shut 
 out from them by a high wall, with only a small gap in it 
 which he had the greatest difficulty in struggling through. 
 Stranger fantasies still assailed him. ' All thought their own 
 religion true. Might not the Turks have as good ground 
 for thinking Mahomet their Saviour as the Christians had 
 for Jesus Christ ? What if all we believed in should be but 
 "a think-so too?' He had hard work to hinder himself 
 from praying to everything about him, to the bushes, to 
 a broom, to a bull, or even to Satan himself. He wished 
 himself a dog or a toad which had no soul to perish, and 
 when he would have given a thousand pounds for a tear could 
 not shed one. He was pursued by a hideous temptation to 
 blaspheme God and Christ and the Holy Spirit, and to 
 commit the unpardonable sin. At last he believed he had 
 committed it, and a good but not over-wise man whom he 
 consulted on his sad case told him ' he verily believed he 
 had.' The perusal of a copy of Luther's Comment on the 
 Galatians which fell into his hands, ' so old that it was ready 
 to fall to pieces if he did but turn it over,' proved a balm for 
 his wounded conscience, for it seemed e written out of his own 
 heart,' and awoke a burning love for his Saviour. But the 
 joy and peace were but transient. ( The tempter came on 
 him again, and that with a more grievous and dreadful 
 
SPIRITUAL DISEASE xix 
 
 temptation than before.' This crisis of his spiritual disease 
 came in an almost irresistible impulse to give up his Saviour 
 and all share in his redemption. Wherever he was, whatever 
 he was doing, day and night, in bed, at table, at work, a voice 
 would sound in his ears bidding him e sell Christ ' for some 
 earthly good. At length, utterly worn out by the torturing 
 suggestions of his mind, he let the fatal words slip from 
 him, as he lay on his bed, f let Him go if He will.' This 
 to his diseased imagination sealed his doom. He had sold 
 his birthright like Esau ; he had betrayed his Lord like Judas. 
 There w r as no longer any place for repentance. He was past 
 all recovery, and bound over to eternal punishment. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that his health gave w r av in 
 
 O ti 
 
 such a lengthened struggle. His sturdy frame was seized 
 with a constant trembling. He would wind and twist and 
 shrink under his burden. His digestion became disordered, 
 and the pain was so violent that it seemed as if his breast- 
 bone would have split asunder. His overwrought fancy 
 suggested that God had set a mark on him as on Cain, and 
 that he was about to burst in the midst like Judas. As a 
 skilful self-tormentor Bunyan rivalled the most rigid ascetics, 
 and his agonies were the more terrible as being inflicted on 
 his soul rather than on his body. 
 
 All this time Bunyan was a member of Gifford's little con- 
 gregation. But the teaching he received was ill adapted to 
 lessen his burden. Its principle was constant introspection, 
 and scrupulous weighing of every word and deed and even of 
 every thought, instead of leading the mind off from self to 
 the Saviour. This f horror of great darkness ' broken bv 
 intermittent gleams of heavenly light, not lasting, but Hike 
 to Peter's sheet of a sudden caught up to heaven again,' 
 continued more than two years and a half. This period was 
 one continued spiritual ague ; hot and cold fits alternating 
 with fearful suddenness ; ' as Esau beat him down, Christ 
 raised him up.' At the end of this period the clouds gradually 
 dispersed. He allowed himself to believe that he had not 
 
xx BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 committed the unpardonable sin ; that he was not quite a 
 castaway. He began to read his Bible as a whole, carefully 
 noting how the different portions bore on and explained one 
 another, e comparing spiritual things with spiritual.' ' And 
 now remained only the hinder part of the tempest, for the 
 thunder was gone past, only some drops did still remain.' 
 And when one day, in the field, ' fearing lest yet all was not 
 right,' the words ' thy righteousness is in heaven ' fell upon 
 his soul ; ' methought,' he says, ' I saw with the eyes of my 
 soul Jesus Christ at God's right hand. There was my 
 righteousness.' Then his chains fell off in very deed. He 
 w r as loosed from his affliction. His temptations fled away, 
 and he went on his way rejoicing. Like his own Christian 
 w r hen delivered from his burden at the foot of the cross 
 ' he gave three leaps for joy,' and cried ' with a merry heart, 
 he hath given me rest by his sorrow and life by his death.' 
 
 Bunyan, having now found peace and comfort, climbed 
 the hill Difficulty and passed the Lions, entered the House 
 Beautiful, and formally united himself to the little congrega- 
 tion under Mr. Gifford, the prototype of his Evangelist, to 
 which belonged the poor women the Piety, Prudence, and 
 Charity of his immortal narrative, known in their own little 
 Bedford world as ( sister Bosworth, sister Munnes, and sister 
 Fenne ; ' whose pleasant words on the things of God as they 
 sat in the sun, ' as if joy did make them speak,' had first 
 opened his eyes to his spiritual ignorance. The earliest 
 records of this church, according to Dr. Brown, do not com- 
 mence till 1656, six years after its formation, and three years 
 after the date given by Charles Doe for Bunyan's baptism. 
 He does not mention this himself, but it is stated by Doe to 
 have been performed publicly, in 1653, by Mr. Gifford in the 
 river Ouse, the ' Bedford river ' where he had once escaped 
 drowning. He was also admitted to the Holy Communion. 
 This ordinance was at first a source of much comfort to him, 
 but before long his old temptation returned upon him, and 
 it was only by force he could keep himself from blasphem- 
 
BUNYAN AS A PREACHER xxi 
 
 ing the Sacrament and cursing his fellow-communicants 1 . 
 His name occurs in the first extant list of members of 
 Mr. Gifford's little community, 'all ancient and grave Chris- 
 tians ' ; and there are about a dozen references to him in the 
 church books up to his imprisonment in 1660. About this 
 time ' Captain Consumption/ who killed ' Mr. Badman ' (one 
 of his most powerfully drawn characters), threatened Bunyan's 
 life ; but his naturally robust constitution ' routed his forces ' 
 and carried him through what at one time he anticipated 
 would prove a fatal illness. The tempter took advantage 
 of his bodily weakness to attack him with his former doubts ; 
 but, after considerable alternation of hope and fear, faith 
 prevailed. It was not long before Buiiyan was proposed as 
 a deacon of the little brotherhood, and he began to exercise 
 his gift of exhortation first privately, and as he gained 
 courage and acceptance 'in a more publick way.' In 1656 
 holy Mr. Gifford died, leaving behind him an exhortation to 
 his congregation to mutual charity and forbearance, breath- 
 ing, as Southey has said, ' a wise, tolerant, and truly Christian 
 spirit.' The year after his death Bunyan's powers as a 
 preacher were formally recognized ; and in 1657 an entry in 
 the church-book records that ' brother Bunyan being taken 
 off by the preaching of the Gospel' another member was 
 made deacon in his room. Bunyan was regularly set apart 
 as a preacher of the Word, after the ritual of the Noncon- 
 formists, ' after solemn prayer and fasting ' ; not however so 
 much for Bedford itself, as to itinerate through the villages 
 round about. He still continued to work at his tinkering 
 craft for a livelihood. He soon became famous as a preacher, 
 and people flocked by hundreds from all parts to hear him, 
 though 'upon sundry and divers accounts,' some, as Southey 
 
 1 In the same year we find the name, John Bunyan, appended 
 to a memorial existing among the Milton papers, from the people of 
 Bedford ' to the Lord Generall Cromwell, and the rest of the Councell 
 of the Army,' recommending two gentlemen to form part of his 
 intended Council after he had dissolved the Long Parliament (Offor's 
 
xxii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 writes, { to marvel., and some perhaps to mock ; but some also 
 to listen and to be touched with a conviction that they 
 needed a Saviour.' But he was not permitted to preach 
 unmolested. Venner's insurrection in 1657 awoke a feeling 
 of insecurity in the public mind and aggravated the preju- 
 dice against Baptists and Quakers, in spite of their protesta- 
 tions of loyalty and disavowal of the principles of the Fifth 
 Monarchy ; ' the doctors and priests of the county did open 
 wide against him/ and in 1658 an indictment was preferred 
 against him at the assizes at Eaton. It will be borne in 
 mind that this took place before the Restoration, when 
 Cromwell was still Protector 1 . But as Dr. Brown observes, 
 ' religious liberty had not come to mean liberty all round, but 
 only liberty for a certain recognized section.' That there 
 was much prosecution during the Protectorate is clear from 
 the history of the Quakers, to say nothing of the intolerant 
 treatment of Roman Catholics and Episcopalians. In Bunyan's 
 own county Quakeresses were sentenced to be whipped and 
 sent to Bridewell for reproving a parish priest, perhaps well 
 deserving of it, and exhorting market-folks to repentance and 
 amendment of life. Even the holy and peaceful Philip Henry 
 was presented in the September of this year at the Flint 
 assizes. ' The simple truth is/ writes Mr. Southev, f all 
 
 Life ; Works, vol. iii. p. xxx). There are thirty-six names, and this 
 stands the fourteenth. The difference of the handwriting in this 
 signature and in those which are undoubtedly his, together with the 
 improbability that a working tinker who had so recently joined the 
 Church should have gained sufficient consideration to warrant his 
 affixing his signature among magistrates, incumbents of parishes, and 
 other persons of substance and position, renders it very improbable 
 that it is the name of the author of the I'ilgrim's Pru<n't**. Dr. 
 Brown states that there were at least three other John Bunyans living 
 in Bedford in 1653, who from social position would have been more 
 likely to have signed this document. Though accepted by Mr. Offor, 
 this signature was regarded with grave doubt by Mr. Bruce, the 
 eminent Treasurer of the Society of Antiquaries, to which body these 
 MSS. belong. 
 
 1 Book of the Bttnyan Festival, p, 8. 
 
THE GREAT CRISIS xxiii 
 
 parties were agreed in the one Catholic opinion that certain 
 doctrines were not to be tolerated ' ; the only point of differ- 
 ence between them was 'what those doctrines were/ and 
 how far intolerance might be carried. How Bunyaii came to 
 escape we do not know. But we hear no more of the indict- 
 ment, which indeed he does not mention, and of which we 
 should have remained in ignorance but for the entry in the 
 church-book appointing a day of prayer with reference to 
 that and other urgent matters. Bunyan's celebrity as a 
 preacher aroused other enemies besides those set in motion 
 by the law. Slanders of the blackest dye were circulated 
 with regard to his moral character : it was rumoured up and 
 down that he was ' a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman/ that he 
 had ' two wives at once/ and lived a life of gross immorality. 
 These calumnious charges called forth that vehement vindi- 
 cation of himself, to which reference has already been made, 
 in which, in the most solemn manner, he declares his absolute 
 innocence as regards sins of licentiousness, and the purity, 
 in this respect, of his whole life, calling not on men only but 
 on angels to prove him guilty if they could. 
 
 We approach now the great crisis in Bunyan's life, but for 
 which his name would have passed away and been forgotten, 
 together with those of thousands of preachers as earnest and 
 as popular as he was. Early in May, 1660, Charles II was 
 proclaimed king, and on the 29th of that month he entered 
 London amid the universal acclamations of all classes of his 
 subjects. Bunyaii, as the extracts from his works given by 
 Mr. Offor and Mr. Copner show, was an eminently loyal man, 
 and few would rejoice more heartily at this event which he 
 was to be one of the first to suffer by. Already distant 
 mutterings of the storm of persecution had been heard. 
 Before Charles' landing at Dover the Episcopalians in Wales 
 had been very busy in manifesting their orthodox zeal by 
 the persecution of Quakers and Nonconformists. In the May 
 or June of that year stories are told of sectaries being haled, 
 out of their beds to prison, and brought in chains to the 
 
xxiv BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 quarter sessions. As we have seen, Bunyan had many ene- 
 mies. The public mind was in a very unquiet state, agitated 
 by the wild schemes of political and religious enthusiasts, 
 who were plotting to destroy the whole existing framework 
 both of Church and State, and set up their own chimerical 
 fabric. In such times we cannot be surprised that, as Souther 
 has said, the 'government, rendered suspicious by the con- 
 stant sense of danger, was led as much by fear as by resent- 
 ment to severities which are explained by the necessities of 
 self-defence.' The acts of relentless severity which still 
 stood unrepealed on the Statute Book, enforcing conformity 
 with the established Church, put a weapon in the hands of 
 the party in power they were not slow to use. ' It is not 
 generally remembered,' writes Dr. Stoughton 1 9 e that long 
 before the Uniformity, Conventicle, and Five Mile Acts were 
 passed John Bunyan was cast into Bedford Gaol 2 .' Under 
 these Acts, within six months of the king's arrival, a warrant 
 was issued against Bunyan, and he was arrested for preaching 
 in a private house at Samsell, a hamlet of the village of 
 Harlington about thirteen miles south of Bedford, on Novem- 
 ber 12, 1660. The intention to arrest him had oozed out, 
 and Bunyan was warned of his danger, and might have 
 escaped if he had chosen ; some of his friends advised it : 
 but he had no mind to play the coward, lest he should 
 
 1 Clturch of the Restoration, vol. i. p. 138. 
 
 3 The old Statute Law of the Realm, 1 Eliz. c. 2, re-eacted with 
 all its rigour 16 Charles II, 4 (1664), required all persons to resort 
 to church every Sunday and holiday, on fine of Is. for each offence 
 and Church censure. 23 Eliz. c. 1 made the fine 20 a month, and 
 an obstinate offender for twelve months had to be bound to good 
 behaviour by two sureties in 200 each, till he conformed. 29 Eliz. 
 c. 6 empowered the Queen by process out of the Exchequer to seize 
 the goods and two parts of the real property of such offenders, in 
 default of paying these fines. 35 Eliz. c. 1 made frequenting con- 
 venticles punishable by imprisonment. Those who after conviction 
 would not submit were to abjure the realm. Refusal to abjure was 
 felony without benefit of clergy. See also 3 Jacob. 4 ; 21 Jacob. 4 ; 
 Stoughton, Church of the Restoration, i. 135. 
 
COMMITTED TO PRISON xxv 
 
 e make an ill savour in the country ' and discourage the 
 weaker brethren. ' The justice before whom he was taken, 
 Mr. Francis Wingate, who seems to have been really desirous 
 to release him, finding all his endeavours, earnestly seconded 
 by his household, useless to lead him to promise to forgo 
 preaching, was compelled to make out his ' mittimus ' and 
 commit him to the county gaol. While his ( mittimus ' was 
 preparing he was reviled by one Dr. Lindale, ( an old enemy 
 to the truth,' who sarcastically reminded him of Alexander 
 the coppersmith w r ho much troubled the apostles ' aiming 
 'tis like at me,' says Bunyan, ' because I was a tinker '- and 
 comparing him to those f who made long prayers that they 
 might devour widows' houses.' But Bunyan was a match for 
 him, and paid him back in his own coin. He was given over 
 to the constable, and in his custody returned to Bedford, 
 probably passing through his native village of Elstow on the 
 way, and was committed to the prison which, with perhaps 
 a brief interval in 1666, was to be his enforced home for the 
 next twelve years, carrying ' God's comfort in his poor soul.' 
 By an obstinate and widespread error it was long taken for 
 granted that Bunyan's place of confinement was the town 
 gaol, which, as old drawings show us, stood so picturesquely 
 on one of the piers of the many-arched bridge over the 
 Ouse. This idea, on which much sensational writing has 
 been expended, has been satisfactorily proved by Mr. James 
 Wyatt to be a baseless fancy, conjured up with the view of 
 exaggerating the severity of Bunyan's sufferings during his by 
 no means harsh imprisonment, and piling contumely on his 
 persecutors. The bridge-gaol was a corporation ' lock-up- 
 house.' The county prison, to which the county justices' 
 warrant must have committed him, was a much larger and 
 less wretched place of incarceration, now pulled down, occupy- 
 ing the angle between High Street and Silver Street. Prisons 
 at the best were foul, dark, miserable places in those days, 
 and one who visited Bunyan during his confinement speaks 
 of Bedford gaol as ' an uncomfortable and close prison ' : but 
 
xxvi BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 his own narrative contains no complaint of it, and we may 
 reasonably believe that his condition was by no means so 
 wretched as many of his biographers represent, especially 
 after he had gained the favour of his gaoler, who at a later 
 time was ready to imperil himself to grant indulgence to his 
 notable prisoner. An attempt to procure Bunyan's release 
 by his obtaining sureties having failed, some seven weeks 
 after his committal the quarter sessions were held, and 
 Bunyan was indicted as a person who e devilishly and per- 
 niciously abstained from coming to church to hear divine 
 service, and was a common upholder of unlawful meetings 
 and conventicles to the great disturbance and distraction of 
 all good subjects.' The brutal and blustering Keeling, who 
 afterwards by his base subserviency to an infamous govern- 
 ment climbed to the Chief Justice's seat, was chairman of 
 the sessions. Under such a man the issue was predeter- 
 mined even had there been any question of Bunyan's guilt. 
 But he confessed the indictment, and declared his resolve to 
 repeat his crime the first moment opportunity was given him. 
 Sentence therefore was passed on him, indeed in the then 
 state of the law his judges had no choice in the matter, that 
 he should be imprisoned three months longer, and if at the 
 end of that time he persisted in his contumacy be ' banished 
 the realm' in modern language ' transported ' and if he 
 ventured to return without royal licence he must ' stretch by 
 the neck for it/ Back therefore he was had 'with a heart 
 sweetly refreshed ' both during his examination and on his 
 return to prison, and full of a peace no man could take from 
 him. Three months elapsed, and then the clerk of the peace, 
 one Mr. Cobb, went to him (April 3, l66l) by the desire of 
 the magistrates to see if he could induce him to conform. 
 But his attempts, which seem to have been very kindly made, 
 were vain, and, after giving Bunyan some very sensible 
 counsel that he was in no state of mind to listen to, he left 
 him with Bunyan's thanks for his 'civil and meek discoursing 
 with him, and a prayer that they might meet in heaven.' 
 
A WIFE'S INTERCESSION xxvii 
 
 Ten days after this interview, April 13, Charles II's corona- 
 tion took place, and the usual proclamation which allowed 
 persons to sue out a pardon for twelve months from that day 
 had the effect of suspending the execution of his sentence of 
 banishment. The agent employed by Bunyan to avail him- 
 self of the royal clemency was his second wife, Elizabeth, 
 a truly noble-hearted Christian woman, worthy to be the 
 helpmate of such a man, as fearless as her husband in the 
 pursuit of the right, but withal a true woman, with ' abashed 
 face and trembling heart,' fuller of compassion for the justices, 
 on the failure of her mediation, thinking e what a sad account 
 such poor creatures would have to give hereafter,' than of 
 anger at their hardheartedness against her husband. How 
 long before Bimyan's first wife had died we do not know. His 
 narrative is provokingly sparing of facts and dates, except 
 those which concern his own spiritual experiences ; but we 
 may gather from her account that somewhere about a year 
 before his first apprehension in November, 1660, she had 
 joined her lot with his and become a second parent to his 
 five little motherless children, one of them a blind girl, the 
 special object of her father's love. Eager for her husband's 
 release she travelled up to London, and with dauntless 
 courage made her way to the House of Lords, where she 
 presented her petition to one of the peers whom she calls 
 Lord Bark wood, but whom we cannot now identify. He 
 treated her kindly, showed her petition to other peers, but 
 gave her small encouragement. Not baffled by previous 
 failures, in August, when the assizes came round and the 
 judges visited Bedford, the excellent Sir Matthew Hale being 
 the most conspicuous among them, Elizabeth Bunyan, at her 
 husband's instance, three times presented a petition to them 
 that he might be heard, and his case taken impartially into 
 consideration. The interview, which took place in the large 
 chamber of the old Swan Inn, at the Bridge-foot, ended in 
 Sir Matthew expressing real compassion for her sad case, but 
 mildly telling her he was sorry he could do her no good, for 
 
xxviii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 what her husband had said was taken for a conviction, and 
 that she must either apply herself to the king or sue out his 
 pardon, or get a writ of error ; the last course being the 
 cheapest. No steps seem to have been taken to carry out 
 any of these expedients, either because they required money 
 which was not forthcoming, or, which Southey sensibly re- 
 marks is quite probable, ' because it is certain that Bunyan, 
 thinking himself in conscience bound to preach in defiance 
 of the law, would soon have made his case worse than it then 
 was.' What perhaps rendered him less eager to take the 
 suggested remedies was that, like Joseph before him, he had 
 ' found favour in the eyes of the keeper of the prison,' who 
 treated him rather like f a prisoner at large'; and, confident 
 that he was not a man to abuse his trust, suffered him to go 
 where he pleased, and return when he thought proper. The 
 church-book shows that during this very year he was occasion- 
 ally present at the church-meetings, and employed on the 
 business of the congregation. Nor was his preaching, which 
 was the very cause of his imprisonment, inhibited. So far 
 did this temporary liberty extend, that he even went to 
 ( see Christians at London.' This coming to the ears of those 
 in authority, he was charged with having for his object 'to 
 plot and raise divisions, and make insurrections,' and his well- 
 meant indulgence was nearly costing his gaoler his place, 
 and an indictment for breach of trust. His liberty was 
 therefore seriously abridged, and he was forbidden even ' to 
 look out at the door.' He was passed by at the following 
 assizes, and when they were again held in the March of 
 1662, his earnest desire to be allowed to appear before the 
 judges and plead his own cause was effectually thwarted by 
 the unfriendly influence of the county magistrates by whom 
 he had been committed, and the clerk of the peace, Mr. Cobb, 
 who, having failed to induce him to conform, had turned 
 bitterly against him, and become one of his greatest opposers. 
 This failure effectually closed the prison doors on him, and, 
 as already stated, he remained an inmate of Bedford gaol, 
 
DAYS OF PERSECUTION xxix 
 
 with a short interval, for the next twelve years, till his release 
 by order of the Privy Council, May 17, 1672. The seven 
 years that followed his incarceration were ( years of deep 
 darkness and trouble' to all Nonconformists, In l66l the 
 re-enactment of the Act of Uniformity, demanding an 
 unfeigned assent and consent to everything contained in the 
 Book of Common Prayer, had dealt a heavy blow at the 
 Puritans. The next year, ' black Bartholomew's day ' saw 
 nearly two thousand rectors and vicars, about one fifth of the 
 parochial clergy, driven from their charges as Nonconformists. 
 The ( Conventicle Act' of 1664, and the < Five Mile Act' of 
 1665, completed the code of persecution, and deepened the 
 feeling of despair in the Nonconformist body. England 
 seemed no longer a home for them, and those who were 
 fortunate enough to escape prison meditated a flight to the 
 Low Countries or to America. The gaols were crammed 
 with men of piety and education, some of whom perished of 
 disease and wretchedness, while the old and young, sick and 
 healthy, were shut up with the vilest miscreants. Upwards 
 of 8,000 Quakers alone suffered imprisonment. Sixty Non- 
 conformists were at one time incarcerated in Bedford gaol 
 for attending a religious meeting, among whom were two 
 ministers. According to his earliest biographer his friend 
 Charles Doe, ' the Struggler ' -Bunyaii obtained his release 
 in 1666, the year of the fire in London ; but he was speedily 
 apprehended again on the old charge and put into the same 
 gaol. Doe tells us that before his final deliverance he was 
 released and apprehended again, his last imprisonment last- 
 ing only six months. But there is some doubt as to the 
 perfect accuracy of these statements. The straitness of 
 Bunyan's imprisonment may be seen from the fact that 
 during all that time his name is not once mentioned in the 
 church-book. These records are indeed very fragmentary 
 till 1668. ' For four years and a half after the passing of the 
 Conventicle Act (in 1664-) there is a gap, without a single 
 entry/ On August 30, 1668, Bunyan's name appears again 
 
xxx BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 in the church records, and is of frequent occurrence till his 
 release in l6?2. Before his final deliverance the extreme 
 rigour of his incarceration was relaxed, and he was allowed 
 to steal out and visit his family, and even to preach in the 
 adjoining villages under the cover of night. Many of the 
 Baptist congregations in Bedfordshire are said to owe their 
 origin to these midnight preachings. 
 
 But though his imprisonment was not so severe, nor his 
 prison so wretched as some word-painters have depicted it, 
 the twelve years spent by Bunyan in gaol must have been 
 a dreary and painful time, and e sometimes under cruel and 
 oppressive gaolers.' The separation from his wife and children 
 was a continually renewed sorrow to his loving heart. He 
 seemed like a man pulling down his house on the head of 
 his wife and children, and yet he said, { I must do it, I must 
 do it.' He was also at one time, when but ( a young 
 prisoner,' greatly troubled by the thought that his l imprison- 
 ment might end at the gallow r s,' not so much that he dreaded 
 death, as that he feared his apparent cowardice, when it came 
 to the point, might do discredit to the cause of religion. 
 Being precluded by his imprisonment from carrying on his 
 tinker's craft for the support of his family, he betook himself 
 to making long tagged laces, many hundred gross of which he 
 made and sold to the hawkers. ' While his hands were thus 
 busied,' writes Lord Macaulay, ' he had often employment 
 for his mind and his lips.' He gave religious instruction to 
 his fellow captives ; ( at one time,' writes his anonymous 
 biographer, ' there w r ere threescore dissenters imprisoned with 
 him,' and he formed from among these a little flock of 
 which he was himself the pastor 1 . He studied in- 
 defatigably the few books which he possessed. His two 
 
 1 ' Upon a certain fixed day, being together with my brethren in our 
 prison chamber, they expected that, according to our custom, some- 
 thing should be spoken out of the Word for our mutual edification. I 
 felt myself, it being my turn to speak, empty, spiritless, barren.' 
 The Holy City, or New Jerusalem, 1665. 
 
BUNYAN'S WRITINGS xxxi 
 
 } 
 chief companions were the Bible and Fox's Acts and 
 
 Monuments. 
 
 { I surveyed his library/ says his anonymous biographer, 
 ' when making him a visit in prison, the least and yet the 
 best that ever I saw, consisting only of two books.' At length 
 Bunyan began to write the wonderful work which has made 
 him immortal, and which is characterized by Coleridge l as 
 ( incomparably the best Summa Tkeologiae Evangelicae ever 
 produced by a writer not miraculously inspired,' the first 
 part of the ' Pilgrim s Progress from this world to that which is 
 to come, delivered under the similitude of a Dream' This was 
 far from being the earliest product of his pen, in the ceaseless 
 activity of which, as Mr. Green remarks, he found compen- 
 sation for the narrow bounds of his prison 2 . In 1656, in his 
 twenty-eighth year, he had given his first work to the world 
 under the title of Some Gospel Truths opened according to the 
 Scriptures, in which, says Mr. Offor, ' he attacked the follies of 
 the time, exposed and condemned heresies without mercy.' 
 This was followed the next year with a Vindication of Gospel 
 Truths, in which he defended himself against the violent on- 
 slaught of Edward Burrough, the Quaker, who perished 
 afterwards in Newgate, whom among other not very con- 
 ciliatory epithets Bunyan termed f a railing Rabshakeh.' In 
 the September of 16.58 he published a tract under the terrible 
 title which prepares us for the nature of its contents, A few 
 sighs from Hell, succeeded in the May of the following year 
 by The doctrine of the Law and Grace unfolded. In both the 
 author calls himself that e poor and contemptible creature, 
 John Bunyan of Bedford.' During his imprisonment, and 
 after his enlargement, tracts, meditations, controversial 
 treatises, poetry, or what he wished to pass for such, followed 
 one another in quick succession. The one work of real 
 genius of which he was the author was slow to see the light. 
 
 1 Literary Remains, vol. iii. p. 391. 
 
 2 Short History of the English People, p. 614. 
 
xxxii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 His own estimation of it was so low, and he was so fearful 
 of its being regarded as a light and trifling work, beneath 
 the dignity of a minister of the Gospel, that after its com- 
 pletion Bunyan kept the Pilgrim locked up in his desk for 
 several years. It was not till l6?8, six years after his release 
 from prison, that the first edition of the most popular allegory 
 in the English language ' stole silently into the w r orld.' The 
 same year a second edition appeared with additions, including 
 Mr. Worldly Wiseman, Byends' friends, and other of the most 
 characteristic creations. It at once caught the popular taste. 
 Edition after edition was called for, and the sale became 
 enormous. Of the substantial originality of this book there 
 can be no reasonable doubt. Every attempt to rob Bunyan 
 of the merit of originality in the conception and execution of 
 his design, and to convict him of secret plagiarism, has 
 utterly broken down, and done little but prove the entire 
 want of critical discernment in its originators. It is perfectly 
 true that the same allegory had often been treated before 
 Bunyan : so frequently indeed, that pages could be filled, 
 as Mr. Offor has done, with notices of such works. But 
 even if there were any probability that an itinerant tinker 
 should have fallen in with such works, some only existing 
 in French or Dutch, the resemblance between them and 
 his immortal allegory is far too general and vague to warrant 
 the hypothesis that Bunyan had borrowed from them. Re- 
 markable as is the similarity between portions of Spenser's 
 Faery Queen and some of the most striking passages of the 
 Pilgrim s Progress, too remarkable, many have thought, to 
 be quite accidental, so excellent a critic as Lord Macaulay 
 speaks of any deliberate imitation as a notion that may be 
 easily confuted by a detailed examination of the respective 
 passages. The complete originality of the Pilgrim is plainly 
 asserted by the author himself ; and if ever there was a man 
 who w r ould have scorned a falsehood, or revolted at the bare 
 idea of passing off the coinage of another man's brains as 
 his own, that man was John Bunyan. 
 
RELEASED FROM GAOL xxxiii 
 
 Bunyan had indeed, as Lord Macaulay remarks, ( no 
 suspicion that he was producing a masterpiece. He could 
 not guess what place his allegory would occupy in English 
 literature, for of English literature he knew nothing. Knavish 
 booksellers put forth volumes of trash under his name, and 
 envious scribblers maintained it to be impossible that the 
 poor ignorant tinker should really be the author of the book. 
 He took the best way to confound both those who counter- 
 feited him and those who slandered him. He continued to 
 work the goldfield which he had discovered, and to draw 
 from it new treasures ; not indeed with quite such ease, and 
 in quite such abundance, as when the precious soil was still 
 virgin, but yet with success which left all competition far 
 behind.' In 1684 appeared the Second Part of the Pilgrim s 
 Progress. It had been preceded in 1682 by the Holy War, 
 which, ( if the Pilgrim's Progress did not exist, would be the 
 best allegory that ever was written.' Grace Abounding was 
 first published in 1666. Its immediate popularity caused six 
 impressions to be called for in that year. 
 
 After twelve years' imprisonment, Bunyan finally left 
 Bedford gaol in 1672. His pardon under the Great Seal 
 bears date the 13th of September of that year. The 
 documents which rewarded the late Mr. Offer's patient 
 researches in the State Paper Office and elsewhere prove 
 that the Quakers were mainly instrumental in throwing open 
 the prison doors to those who were suffering for the sake of 
 religion in the various gaols of the kingdom, and that Charles' 
 gratitude to John Groves, the Quaker mate of Tattersall's 
 fisher-boat, in which he escaped to France after the battle 
 of Worcester, had something, and the determined advocacy 
 of George Whitehead, the Quaker, still more, to do with this 
 act of royal clemency. But the main cause lies deeper, and f 
 is connected, as Macaulay says, f with one of the worst acts 
 of one of the worst governments that England has ever seen,' 
 that of the Cabal. Charles had just concluded the base 
 Treaty of Dover, by which he bound himself to declare 
 
xxxiv BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 himself a Roman Catholic, and to set up the Popish religion 
 in England. The announcement of his conversion it was 
 found convenient to defer. Nor could the other part of the 
 treaty be safely carried out at once. But as a first step 
 toward it, by an unconstitutional exercise of his prerogative, 
 he suspended all penal statutes against Nonconformists and 
 recusants the former being introduced the better to cloak 
 his real design. Toleration was thus at last secured. 
 ' Ministers returned/ writes Mr. Green, ' after years of 
 banishment, to their houses and their flocks, chapels were 
 reopened, the gaols were emptied, Bunyan left his prison at 
 Bedford ; the "Den" where he had been visited with his 
 marvellous dream.' More than three thousand licences to 
 preach were granted, one of the first of which, dated 
 May 9, 1672, was granted to Bunyan, who on the 21st of the 
 preceding January had been called to the pastorate of the 
 Baptist church at Bedford, and ' giving himself up to serve 
 Christ and His Church in that charge, received of the elders 
 the right hand of fellowship.' The place in which Bunyan 
 was licensed to preach was the house, or more probably 
 a barn on the premises, of Josiah Roughead, a man of sub- 
 stance at Bedford, whose goods had been seized a few 
 months before to pay a fine inflicted for nonconformity. The 
 story that Bunyan owed his liberation to the kind offices of 
 Dr. Barlow, Bishop of Lincoln, in which diocese Bedford then 
 was, though told with much particularity in the Life of 
 Dr. Owen, is contradicted by dates, Barlow not having 
 succeeded to his see until three years later, June 27, 1675, 
 and must be regarded as one of the pleasing fictions of history. 
 This Declaration of Indulgence was short-lived. It was with- 
 drawn, and the Test Act was passed the next year, 1673. 
 f But though,' says Dr. Stoughton, f this altered the legal 
 position of Nonconformists much for the worse, the law was 
 not generally pressed, and they were treated with much less 
 severity than before.' 
 
 Almost Bunyan's first act after his liberation was to apply 
 
BUNYAN'S PASTORAL DUTIES xxxv 
 
 to the Government for licences for preachers and preaching- 
 places in Bedfordshire and the neighbouring counties under 
 the Declaration of Indulgence. A document discovered by 
 Dr. Brown in the Record Office contains a list of six-and-twenty 
 such applications, the sixth of which is for ' John Bunyon for 
 Josias Rough ead's house in his Orchard at Bedford V While 
 he made Bedford his chief care, Bunyan's pastoral super- 
 intendence extended beyond the surrounding district to other 
 parts of England, where he is said to have made stated circuits. 
 He was the means of establishing Baptist congregations at 
 Gamlingay, and in many of the villages round, some of which, 
 we are told, subsist to the present day. When he preached 
 in London, which he seems to have done at stated intervals, 
 an enormous concourse assembled to listen to him, if but one 
 day's notice was given of his coming, in the coldest winter 
 weather, and before daylight in the morning. Tw r o anecdotes 
 are on record with regard to Bunyan's preaching. ' The first, 
 which,' says Southey, ' authenticates itself,' is that one day 
 when he had preached f with peculiar warmth and enlarge- 
 ment,' one of his friends remarked what ' a sweet sermon ' 
 he had delivered. ' Ay,' said he, 'you have no need to tell 
 me that ; for the Devil whispered it to me before I was well 
 out of the pulpit.' The other, which has perhaps needlessly 
 been called in question, states that, Charles II having heard 
 that Dr. Owen greatly admired Bunyan's preaching, asked in 
 surprise ' how a learned man such as he could sit and listen 
 to an illiterate tinker.' ' May it please your Majesty,' he 
 replied, ' I would gladly give up all my learning for that 
 tinker's power of preaching.' 
 
 Bunyan survived Charles II, and with a heavy heart saw 
 James II, an avowed Papist, mount the throne. The danger 
 he foresaw for the Nonconformists was made more real by 
 Monmouth's rebellion in 1685. The persecution, which had 
 much increased in violence during the last three years, of 
 Charles' reign, not on religious but political grounds, raged 
 1 Book of the Bunyan Festival, p. 17, 
 
xxxvi BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 with still greater fury. The gaols were filled, and many were 
 driven into exile. Scarcely a single Dissenting Minister of 
 any eminence remained unmolested, and it was by no means 
 unlikely that Bunyan might be called again to occupy his 
 old quarters in Bedford gaol. In this uncertainty, fearing 
 lest if he were sent to prison as a felon his little property 
 might all be forfeited and his \vife and children left destitute, 
 by a deed of gift, dated Dec. 23, 1685, in which he describes 
 himself as ' John Bunyan of the parish of St. Cuthbert's in 
 the town of Bedford, Brazier,' he made over to his wife 
 Elizabeth all his worldly possessions. 
 
 His frequent journeys to exhort other Baptist congregations 
 exposed him to danger of apprehension. Reading was one 
 of the places where he was best known, and there is a tra- 
 dition that he sometimes visited that town disguised as 
 a wagoner with a long whip in his hand to avoid detection. 
 Quieter times succeeded, and this period of peril to his liberty 
 was followed by one of still greater danger to his honesty and 
 consistency of purpose. James, despairing of using the Tories 
 and Church party as his tools, turned, as his brother had done 
 before him, to the Nonconformists. The snare was craftily 
 baited with a Declaration of Indulgence. A paper in the 
 Bodleian, quoted by Dr. Stoughton a , shows that Bunyan was 
 deemed a man of sufficient importance to be consulted as to 
 the choice of members of Parliament for Bedford, as one who 
 was prepared to do his utmost to return those who would 
 vote for the repeal of all tests and penal laws touching 
 religion. But Bunyan saw through James' device, and 
 utterly refused to hold any communication with the member 
 of the Court commissioned to secure his aid, and appointed 
 a day of fasting and prayer for the danger that again 
 menaced their civil and religious liberties. A true sturdy 
 Englishman, lie with Baxter and Howe ' refused an 
 Indulgence which could only be purchased by the violent 
 overthrow of the law.' 
 
 1 Church of the Restoration, vol. ii. p. 555, note. 
 
DEATH AND BURIAL xxxvii 
 
 Bunyan did not live to see the Revolution. Four months 
 after the acquittal of the seven bishops, the Pilgrim's earthly 
 Progress ended, and he was bidden to cross the dark river 
 which has no bridge. He was called away in the very midst 
 of his religious activity, and when the once despised tinker 
 had approached the nearest to worldly honour. That year he 
 was chaplain to Sir John Shorter, Lord Mayor of London, 
 and, though in the spring he had suffered from the ' sweating 
 sickness,' he published six considerable volumes, and left 
 twelve more in manuscript ready for the press. His death 
 was brought about by a work of true Christian love. The 
 father of a young man in whom he took an interest had 
 resolved, on some offence, real or supposed, to disinherit his 
 son. The young man besought Bunyan's mediation. Desirous 
 to reconcile them Bunyan rode on horseback to Reading, where 
 the father lived, and pleaded the offender's cause so effectually 
 that he obtained a promise of forgiveness. On his return he 
 had to ride through heavy rain. He reached the house of 
 his friend John Strudwick (f grocer and chandler at the sign 
 of the Star, Holborn Bridge/ as we learn from a still existing 
 billhead with a picture of the four-storied gabled house) 
 drenched to the skin. A fever ensued, of which he died 
 August 31, 1688, aged sixty years. His last earthly work was 
 to revise the proof sheets of the earlier part of a short 
 treatise entitled The Acceptable Sacrifice, which was carried 
 through the press after his decease by his old Bedfordshire 
 friend the Rev. George Cokayn of Cople, minister of the 
 church in Red Cross Street. He was buried in Mr. Strudwick's 
 vault in the Nonconformist Campo Santo, the burial-ground in 
 Bunhill Fields. 
 
 By his first wife Bunyan had five children. Elizabeth, born 
 in 1654, died in childhood before the commencement of his 
 imprisonment. His blind child, Mary, born in 1650, who was 
 unspeakably precious to him, also died before her father. 
 One daughter, Sarah, and his sons Thomas and Joseph, 
 survived him. Thomas became a preacher, and we are told 
 
xxxviii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 was held in good repute as a man of piety and discretion, 
 but of no remarkable gifts. Bunyan's heroic wife Elizabeth 
 died four years after him, in 1692. 
 
 Much of Bunyan's literary activity was spent in controversy. 
 And in dealing with his opponents he did not employ honeyed 
 words or measured phrases. His language towards those 
 whom he looked on as the perverters of the truth was 
 vehement and downright. He wrote very bitterly of the 
 Quakers, the Ranters, the Roman Catholics, the Church of 
 England. The Church had not spared him, neither did he 
 spare her. One of his latest and most impressive warnings 
 to his adherents was not to ' touch the Common Prayer.' 
 But we should be very wrong if we regarded Bunyaii as 
 a mere polemic. No one ever had less of the narrow sectarian 
 spirit of the controversialist, which thinks more of the in- 
 finitely small points on which Christians differ than of the 
 infinitely great truths on which they are agreed. External 
 differences w r ere nothing where there was true Christian 
 faith. And it is this freedom from the trammels of sect 
 and dogma which has given the Pilgrims Progress its universal 
 popularity. In it we have Bunyan's best self, the Christian, 
 not the angry controversialist. And thus, as Dean Stanley 
 has said, it has become ' one of the few books which act 
 as a religious bond to the whole of English Christendom.' 
 This peculiar glory is what above all things Bunyari would 
 have desired for his little book, far as he must have been 
 from conceiving the possibility of it. ( I would be,' he says, 
 ' as I hope I am, a Christian ; but as for those factious titles 
 of Anabaptist, Independent, Presbyterian, and the like, I con- 
 clude that they come neither from Jerusalem nor from Aiitioch, 
 but from hell or Babylon.' It was this universal chanty that 
 he expressed in his last sermon. ' Dost thou see a soul that 
 has the image of God in him ? Love him, love him. This 
 man and I must go to heaven one day. Love one another 
 and do good for one another.' ' There is,' writes Dean Stanley, 
 ' no compromise in his words, no faltering in his convictions ; 
 
CHARM OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS xxxix 
 
 but his love and admiration are reserved on the whole for that 
 which all good men love, and his detestation on the whole 
 is reserved for that which i'.ll good men detest.' By the 
 catholic spirit which breathes through his immortal work, 
 even more than by its homely vigorous style, its graphic 
 power, its insight into character, its e touches of nature,' which 
 f make the whole world kin,' John Bunyan ' became the 
 teacher not of any particular sect, but of the universal 
 Church 1 .' 
 
 It now remains to speak of Bunyan as a writer, and of the 
 literary character of the book that has made his name im- 
 mortal. 
 
 The great charm of the Pilgrims Progress is the purity, 
 the homeliness, of its vernacular. Few were ever such 
 complete masters of their ( sweet mother tongue,' in its 
 native vigour, as Bunyan 2 . The book stands unrivalled as 
 a model of our English speech, plain but never vulgar, full 
 of metaphor but never obscure, always intelligible, always 
 forcible, going straight to the point in the fewest and 
 simplest words. He is ' powerful and picturesque/ writes 
 Mr. Hallam 3 , ( from his concise simplicity.' Bunyan's style 
 is recommended by Lord Macaulay as k 'an invaluable study 
 to every person who wishes to gain a wide command over 
 the English language. Its vocabulary is the vocabulary of 
 the common people. There is not an expression, if we except 
 a few technical terms of theology, that would puzzle the 
 rudest peasant.' He remarks that there are whole pages 
 which do not contain a single word of more than two syllables, 
 and that thus there is no book which shows so well ' how 
 rich the old unpolluted English is in its proper wealth, and 
 
 1 Dean Stanley's Address : Book of the Bunyan Festival, pp. 51-3. 
 
 2 Some of the choicest examples of Bunyan's racy vernacular appear 
 in the marginal notes those ' windows,' as Bunyan calls them, in 
 the verses appended to the Holy War, to cast light upon the text. 
 
 3 Literature of Europe, vol. i. p. 305. 
 
xl BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 how little it has been improved by all that it has borrowed.' 
 And the reason of this excellence is evident. Banyan's 
 English was the English of the Bible. By constant perusal 
 his mind was thoroughly steeped in Holy Scripture ; he 
 thought its thoughts,, spoke its words, adopted its images. 
 ' In no book/ writes Mr. Green 1 ,, c do we see more clearly the 
 new imaginative force which had been given to the common 
 life of Englishmen by their study of the Bible. Its English 
 is the simplest and homeliest English that has ever been 
 used by any great English writer, but it is the English of 
 the Bible.' 
 
 To pass from the style of the Pilgrims Progress to the 
 form. Some have questioned how best to describe it, as 
 a religious allegory or a religious novel, and on which ground 
 its claim to transcendent excellence chiefly rests. Such 
 discussions are fruitless. It is both the one and the other. 
 And both as allegory and as story it surpasses nearly all 
 allegories and stories which have ever been written. But 
 it is probably on its merits as a story that its universal 
 interest and its lasting vitality rests. Lord Macaulay has 
 said, ( Bunyan is as decidedly the first of allegorists as Demos- 
 thenes is the first of orators, or Shakespeare the first of 
 dramatists. Other allegorists have shown great ingenuity, 
 but no other allegorist has ever been able to touch the heart, 
 and to make abstractions objects of terror, pity, and of love.' 
 But \ve may question whether if this had been its only claim 
 to endurance the Pilgrims Progress would have survived so" 
 long, and that with a continually growing appreciation. As 
 an allegory it had many predecessors, and if regarded simply 
 on the ground of allegorical propriety and unity of aim, some 
 rivals, if not superiors. That which gives it its unique position 
 is ^the human interest and dramatic power which belongs to 
 it as a biographic fiction. This, which is the secret of its 
 literary perfection, it has been remarked, is also the secret 
 of its life. Bunyan lives, and we doubt not will continue to 
 
 1 Short Jlistory of the English People, p. <>14- 
 
DESCRIPTIVE POWERS xli 
 
 live,, not so much as the religious allegorist, but as the novelist 
 of unique genius, the first indeed in point of time of all 
 English novelists. ' The claim to be the father of English 
 romance/ writes Dr. Allon, ' which has sometimes been pre- 
 ferred for Defoe, really pertains to Bunyan. Defoe may 
 claim the parentage of a species, but Bunyan is the creator 
 of the genus. Although intensely religious in purpose, 
 character, and interest, the Pilgrim's Progress is the first 
 English novel.' As the parent of biographic fiction it is that 
 Bunyan has charmed the world. 
 
 But with all its consummate power, Bunyan's genius was 
 reproductive rather than creative. Its force lay in vivid 
 description, not in invention. Even if we concede to Mr. 
 HaIlarTr l 7~TKat ' his inventive faculty is considerable,' it is 
 with the reserve that ( it is his power of representation M'hich 
 is his distinguishing excellence.' He makes us see what he 
 describes because he had seen it himself. The history of 
 the Pilgrim is ^ his owjihistory . The varied experiences of 
 Christiana and her children, her sweet companion ' young 
 Mercy,' are such as he had witnessed around him in the 
 members of Mr. Gifford's church. And it is this which breathes 
 life into every line. He was not evolving a shadowy career 
 out of his own inner consciousness a dead abstraction of 
 what might be or ought to be but portraying what he 
 had himself known and felt. 
 
 The scenery and surroundings of his allegory, except when 
 borrowed from the great repertory of the Bible, are also such 
 as he had grown up amidst in his native county, or had seen 
 in his tinker's wanderings. ' Born and bred,' writes Kings- 
 ley, Mil the monotonous midland, he has no natural images 
 beyond the pastures and brooks, the town and country houses 
 he saw about him.' Bunyan was a man of keen perception, 
 and described what he saw with a homely graphic power ; 
 but whenever he had to draw on his own resources his 
 pictures are frigid and formal. His mind was probably in- 
 1 Literature of Europe, vol. iii. p. 588. 
 
xlii BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 sensible to the higher types of beauty and grandeur in nature. 
 All his nobler imagery is taken from Scripture ; ( There is 
 scarcely a circumstance or metaphor in the Old Testament 
 which does not find a place bodily and literally in the Pilgrims 
 Progress, and this has made his imagination appear more 
 creative than it really is 1 .' 
 
 We notice also this superiority of the descriptive to the 
 creative faculty in the dramatis personac of his book. With 
 all their distinctness 110 two alike, and each with their 
 individual traits of manner and language, which stamp them 
 as living persons, not mere lay-figures named and ticketed 
 there is not one we can think of as the creation of his own 
 mind. They are English men and women of his own time. 
 
 , O 
 
 He had seen and known every one of them. Bold personifi- 
 cations as they are, and to some extent exaggerated types 
 of some leading vice or virtue, they are not mere pale 
 shadows, like the characters in most allegories, but beings 
 of flesh and blood like ourselves. We may be sure that they 
 were all well known in Bunyan's own circle. He could have 
 given a personal name to every one, and we could do the 
 same to many. Dean Stanley says most truly, ' We as well 
 as he have met with Mr. Byends and Mr. Facing-both- 
 ways, and Mr. Talkative. Some of us perhaps have seen 
 Mr. Nogood and Mr. Liveloose, Mr. Hatelight, and Mr. 
 Implacable. All of us have at times been like Mr. Ready- 
 to-Halt, Mr. Feeblemind and Faintheart, Noheart, and Slow- 
 pace, Shortwind, and the young woman whose name was 
 Dull.' 
 
 The descriptive touches of person and bearing, in which 
 Bunyaii so much excels, make these characters still more 
 real to us. We can see poor Feeblemind, with his ( whitcly 
 look, the cast in his eye,' and his trembling speech, and 
 Madam Bubble, 'tall and of a swarthy complexion,' and 
 Littlefaith, ' as white as a clout ' when the thieves were on 
 him, and ' Ready-to-Halt ' coming along on his crutches, and 
 1 Hallam, Literature of Europe, vol. iii.p. 588. 
 
CHARACTERISTIC NOMENCLATURE xliii 
 
 Demas ' gentlemanlike ' standing to call passers by to ' come 
 and see.' It is this intimate knowledge of human life and 
 human nature that gives Bunyan his great power to rivet 
 and to charm. But it is human life and human nature in 
 their ordinary every-day guise. Of those ' complexities and 
 contradictions of the human heart which we are now 
 so fond of trying to unravel/ as Kingsley says, he takes 
 very little note. They were probably too subtle for his 
 apprehension. 
 
 Bunyan' s genius in indicating character and his command 
 of his mother-tongue are nowhere more apparent than in the 
 happily chosen designations given to his personages and their 
 dwellingplaces. The name of the man himself, of his parents, 
 of his relations and of his home, set him before us in a few 
 masterly touches. Even if they only appear incidentally in 
 the narrative, quitting the stage as soon as they have been 
 brought upon it, the features of each are so marked that they 
 leave an indelible impression. Who can forget ' Temporary, 
 who dwelt in Graceless, two miles off of Honesty, next door 
 to one Turnback ' or ' Talkative, the son of one Say well, who 
 dwelt in Prating Row' or ' Beelzebub's friend Sir Having 
 Greedy,' and, ' Turnaway, that dwelt in the town of Apostacy,' 
 and ' Valiant-for-the-Truth, born in Darkland, where his 
 father and mother still were ' ? But Bunyaii's masterpiece 
 in characteristic nomenclature is Mr. Byends, with his rela- 
 tives and associates. If he had not spoken a word we should 
 have known all about the man that came from ' the town of 
 Fairspeech, the Parson of which, Mr. Twotongues, was his 
 mother's own brother by father's side,' who claimed kindred 
 with f my Lord Turnabout, my Lord Timeserver, Mr. Smooth- 
 man and Mr. Anything,' and 'went to school at one 
 Mr. Gripeman's of Lovegain, a market-town in the county 
 of Coveting,' and had ' Hold-the-world, Moneylove and 
 Saveall ' as his schoolfellows, and whose wife was ' my Lady 
 Feigning's daughter,' and his grandfather ( a waterman look- 
 ing one way and rowing another.' A man of such ante- 
 
xliv BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 cedents we are sure would 'be zealous for religion when he 
 went in his silver slippers, when the sun shines and the 
 people applaud him/ and would be equally ready to go and 
 dig with Demas in his silver-mine underneath Hill Lucre, 
 and 'never be seen in the way again.' 
 
 It would be a thankless office to point out the imperfections 
 which attach to the Pilgrim s Progress, as to all human com- 
 positions. We may acquiesce in the soundness of Hallam's 
 judgement, that ( in the conduct of the romance no rigorous 
 attention to the conduct of the allegory seems to have been 
 preserved ' ; that it is difficult to say why certain events 
 occur where they do ; that ' Vanity Fair and the Cave of 
 the two Giants might for anything we see have been placed 
 elsewhere.' We may not be insensible to circumstantial 
 incongruities for instance, Faithful's being carried up to the 
 Heavenly City in the middle of the pilgrimage without 
 crossing the River of Death, and Hopeful's joining Christian 
 midway on, having never passed through the Wicket-gate, 
 or lost his burden at the foot of the Cross. We may see 
 a want of exact correspondence between the First and Second 
 Parts that that which is a mere ' wicket-gate ' in the one is 
 a considerable building with a ( summer parlour ' in the 
 other that the ' Shepherds' tents ' on the ' Delectable 
 Mountains ' have given place to a ' Palace ' with a s Dining 
 Room ' and a ( Looking Glass/ and a store of jewels ; we 
 may wonder at the change in the aspect and the town of 
 Vanity, where Christiana and her family settle down comfort- 
 ably, enjoying the society of the good people of the place, 
 and the sons marry and have children. We may be 
 offended at the want of keeping which in the course of a 
 supposed journey converts Christiana's sweet babes, who are 
 terrified at the dog at the Wicket-gate, and ' plash the 
 boughs ' for the plums, and cry at having to climb the hill ; 
 whose faces are ' stroked ' by the Interpreter ; who are 
 catechized and called ' good boys ' by Prudence ; who sup 
 on ' bread crumbled into basins of milk/ and are put to bed 
 
THE TEXT xlv 
 
 by Mercy into ' young men and strong/ able to go out and 
 fight with a giant and give a hand to the destruction of 
 Doubting Castle, and becoming husbands and fathers. But 
 these are but motes in the sunbeam, defects inseparable from 
 every work of native genius, which we could ill afford to 
 exchange for the tame accuracy of the schools. e If you 
 were to polish it,' writes Coleridge, 'you would destroy at 
 once the reality of the vision.' 
 
 The text of the Pilgrim's Progress in the present reprint 
 is, in all essential points, that of the second edition of the 
 First Part, and of the first edition of the Second Part, pub- 
 lished respectively in 1678 and 1684. 
 
 The additions made in the second edition of the First 
 Part include the whole episodes of Mr. Worldly Wiseman, 
 and of Mrs. Diffidence, with most of that of Byends ; the 
 touching conversation at the House Beautiful between Charity 
 and Christian with regard to his family, and that of Evan- 
 gelist with Christian and Faithful as they approach Vanity 
 Fair, the pillar of Lot's wife at the Hill Lucre, the trumpeting 
 and bell-ringing at the Celestial City, and the name of the 
 Hill Difficulty. 
 
 The first edition, which had been probably printed from 
 Bunyan's own rude manuscript, written in prison, with some 
 slight corrections from an editor hardly better educated than 
 himself, abounds with orthographical irregularities, which are 
 generally amended in the second edition. 
 
 In the Second Part the orthography of the original edition 
 of l684< has been generally followed. The spelling here is 
 usually more correct than* in the First Part. While religiously 
 preserving the text unaltered, the rule has been to adopt the 
 more modern orthography, except in special characteristic 
 cases. This course has been fully authorized by the fact that 
 there is scarcely a single instance where in some part of the 
 work the modern spelling may not be found. To preserve 
 the old orthography would therefore have been mere 
 
xlvi BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 pedantry. The same rule has been adopted with regard to 
 capital letters and punctuation. In both Bunyan was lawless 
 and capricious. No good end was to be served in retain- 
 ing an erroneous usage,, and it has been discarded without 
 question. Manifest errors have also been corrected without 
 scruple. 
 
THE 
 
 PILGEIMS PEOGEESS 
 
 FROM 
 
 THIS WORLD 
 
 TO 
 
 THAT WHICH IS TO COME 
 
 DELIVERED UXDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A 
 
 DREAM 
 
 WHEREIV IS DISCO\ 7 ERED 
 
 THE MANNER OF HIS SETTING OUT, HIS DANGEROUS 
 
 JOURNEY, AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE 
 
 DESIRED COUNTRY 
 
 BV 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN 
 
 / have used similitudes. HOSE A xii. 10 
 
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY 
 
 FOR HIS BOOK 
 
 jfirst I took my Pen in hand, 
 Tims for to write ; / did not understand 
 
 That I at all should make a little Bool: 
 In such a mode ; Nay, I had undertook 
 To make another, which when almost clone, 
 Before I was aware, I this begun. 
 
 And thus it was : I writing of the Way 
 And Race of Saints, in this our Gospel-Day, 
 Fell suddenly into an Allegory 
 
 .* 
 
 About their Journey, and the way to Glory, 
 In more than twenty things, which I set down; 
 This done, I twenty more had in my Crown, 
 And they again began to multiply, 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do t /fy. 
 Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 Fll put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 Should 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 undertake 
 Thereby to please my Neighbor ; no not I ; 
 And did it mine own self to gratify. 
 
THE AUTHORS APOLOGY 
 
 Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
 In this my Scribble; nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself in doing this. 
 From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. 
 
 Thus I set Pen to Paper with delight, 
 And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 
 For having now my Method by the end, 
 Still as I puird, it came ; and so I penned 
 It down ; until at last it came to be, 
 For length and breadth the bigness which you see. 
 
 Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, 
 I shewed them others, that I might see whether 
 They would condemn them, or them justify : 
 And some said, let them live; some, let them die. 
 Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not so : 
 Some said, It might do good others said, No. 
 
 Noiv was I in a strait, and did not see 
 Which was the best thing to be done by me : 
 At last I thought, Since you are thus divided ', 
 / print it will ; and so the case decided. 
 
 For, thought I, Some, I see, would have it done 
 Though others in that Channel do not run , 
 To prove then who advised for the best, 
 Thus I thought Jit to put it to the test. 
 
 I further thought, if now I did deny 
 Those that would have it thus, to gratify , 
 / 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 loth ; 
 Yet since your Brethren pleased with it be, 
 Forbear to judge, till you do further see. 
 
 If that thou wilt not read, let it alone ; 
 Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone: 
 
FOR HIS BOOK 5 
 
 Yea, that I might them better palliate, 
 I did too with them thus expostulate. 
 
 May I not write in such a stile as this? 
 In such a method too, and yet not miss 
 Mine end, thy good ? why may it not be done ? 
 Dark Clouds bring Waters, when the bright bring none ; 
 Yea, dark, or bright, if they their Silver drops 
 Cause to descend, the Earth, by yielding Crops, 
 Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either, 
 But treasures up the Fruit they yield together: 
 Yea, so commixes both, that in her Fruit 
 None can distinguish this from that, they suit 
 Her well, when hungry : but if she be full, 
 She spues out both, and makes their blessings null. 
 
 You see the ways the Fisherman doth take 
 To catch the Fish; what Engins doth he make? 
 Behold how he ingageth all his Wits, 
 Also his Snares, Lines, Angles, Hooks and Nets. 
 Yet Fish there be, that neither Hook, nor Line, 
 Nor Snare, nor Net, nor Engine can make thine; 
 They must be grop^t for, and be tickled too, 
 Or they will not be catcht, what e^re you do. 
 
 How doth the Fowler seek to catch his Game, 
 By divers means, all which one cannot name? 
 His Gun, his Nets, his Limetwigs, light, and bell: 
 He creeps, he goes, he stands ; yea who can tell 
 Of all his postures, Yet there's none of these 
 Will make him master of what Fowls he please. 
 Yea, he must Pipe, and Whistle to catch this; 
 Yet if he does so, that Bird he will miss. 
 
 If that a Pearl may in a Toads-head dwell, 
 And may be found too in an Oystershell ; 
 If things that promise nothing, do contain 
 What better is than Gold; who will disdain, 
 
6 THE AUTHORS APOLOGY 
 
 ( That have an inkling of it,) there to look, 
 That they may find it. Now my little Book, 
 (The? void of all those paintings that may make 
 It with this or the other Man to take,) 
 Is not without those things that do excel 
 What do in brave, but empty notions dwell. 
 
 Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, 
 That this your Book icill stand when soundly trifd; 
 
 Why, whafs the matter! it is dark, what tho? 
 But it is feigned. What of that I tro ? 
 Some men by feigning words as dark as mine, 
 Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine. 
 But they want solidness : Speak man thy mind. 
 They drown\l the weak ; Metaphors make us blind. 
 
 Solidity, indeed becomes the Pen 
 Of him that writeth things Divine to men : 
 But must I needs want solidness, because 
 By Metaphors I speak ; Was not Gods Laws* 
 His Gospel-Laws, in older time held forth 
 By Types, Shadows and Metaphors ? Yet loth 
 Will any sober man be to Jind fault 
 With them, lest he be found for to assauli 
 The highest Wisdom. No, he rather stoops, 
 And seeks to find out what by pins and loops, 
 By Calves, and Sheep, by Heifers, and by Rams , 
 By Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs, 
 God speaketh to him. And happy is he 
 That finds the light, and grace that in tliem be. 
 
 Be not too forward therefore to conclude, 
 That I want solidness, that I am rude: 
 All things solid in shew, not solid be; 
 All things in parables despise not we, 
 Lest things most hurtful lightly we mr/zr, 
 And things that good are, of our souls bereave. 
 
FOR HIS BOOK 7 
 
 My dark and cloudy words they do but hold 
 The Truth) as Cabinets inclose the Gold. 
 
 The Prophets used much by Metaphors 
 To set forth Truth ; Yea, who so considers 
 Christ, his Apostles too, shall plainly see, 
 That Truths to this day in such Mantles be. 
 
 Am I afraid to say that holy Writ, 
 Which for its Stile, and Phrase puts down all Wit, 
 Is every where so full of all these things, 
 (Dark Figures, Allegories,) yet there springs 
 From that same Book that lustre, and those rays 
 Of light, that turns our darkest nights to days. 
 
 Come, let my Carper to his Life now look, 
 And Jind There darker lines than in -my Book 
 He Jindeth any. Yea, and let him know, 
 That in his best things there are worse lines too. 
 
 May we but stand before impartial men, 
 To his poor One, I durst adventure Ten, 
 That they will take my meaning in these lines 
 Far better than his Lies in Silver Shrines. 
 Come, Truth, although in Swadling-clouts, I Jind 
 Informs the Judgment, rectifies the Mind, 
 Pleases the Understanding, makes the Will 
 Submit ; the Memory too it doth Jill 
 With what doth our Imagination please ; 
 Likewise, it tends our troubles to appease. 
 
 Sound words I know Timothy is to use, 
 And old Wives Fables he is to refuse ; 
 But yet grave Paul, him no where doth forbid 
 The use of Parables ; in which lay hid 
 That Gold, those Pearls, and precious stones that were 
 Worth digging for ; and that with greatest care. 
 
 Let me add one word more, O man of God! 
 Art thou ojfendcd? dost thou wish I had 
 
8 THE AUTHORS APOLOGY 
 
 Put forth my matter in another dress, 
 Or that I had in things been more express? 
 Three things let me propound, then I submit 
 To those that are my betters, as is jit. 
 
 1. I Jind not that I am denied the use 
 Of this my method, so I no abuse 
 Put on the Words, Things, Readers, or be rude 
 In handling Figure, or Similitude, 
 In application ; but, all that I may, 
 Seek the advance of Truth, this or that way : 
 Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave, 
 (Example too, and that from them that have 
 God better pleased by their words or ways, 
 Than any man that breathcth now a-days,) 
 Thus to express my mind, thus to declare 
 Things unto thce, that excellentest are. 
 
 %. I Jind that men (as high as Tree*) will write 
 Dialogue-wise ; yet no man doth them slight 
 For writing so : Indeed if they abuse 
 Truth, cursed be they, and, the craft they use 
 To that intent ; But yet let Truth be free 
 To make her Sallies upon Thee, and Me, 
 Which way it pleases God. For who knows how, 
 Better than he that taught us Jirst to Plough, 
 To guide 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 
 Doth call for one thing, to set forth another: 
 Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother 
 Truths golden Beams ; Nay, by this method mat) 
 Make it cast forth its rays as light as day. 
 And now, before I do put up my Pen, 
 ril 6-hew the projit of my Book, and then 
 
FOR HIS BOOK 9 
 
 Cot ri> nit 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 shews you whence he comes, whither he goes, 
 What he leaves undone; also what he does: 
 It also shews you how he runs and runs, 
 Till he unto the Gate of Glory conies. 
 
 It shews too, who sets out for life amain, 
 As if the lasting Crown they would attain : 
 Here also you may see the reason why 
 They lose their labour, and like Fools do die. 
 
 This Book will make a Traveller of thee, 
 If by its Counsel thou wilt ruled be ; 
 It will direct thee to the Holy Land, 
 If thou wilt its Directions understand : 
 Yea, it will make the slothful, active be; 
 The Blind also, delightful things to see. 
 
 Art thou for something rare, and profitable ? 
 Wouldest thou see a Truth within a Fable? 
 Art thou forgetful? wouldest thou remember 
 From New-year's-day to the last of December ? 
 Then read my fancies, they will stick like Burs, 
 And may be to the Helpless, Comforters. 
 
 This Book is writ in such a Dialect, 
 As may the minds of listless men affect : 
 It seems a Novelty, and yet contains 
 Nothing but sound, and honest Gospel-strains. 
 
 Wouldest thou divert thyself from Melancholy ? 
 Wouldest thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? 
 Wouldest thou read Riddles, $ their Explanation ? 
 Or else be drowned in thy Contemplation? 
 Dost thou love picking meat ? Or wouldst thou see 
 A man rth Clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? 
 
10 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK 
 
 WouWst thou be in a Dream, and yet not sleep ? 
 Or wouldest thou In a moment laugh* and iceep ? 
 
 Wonkiest thou lose thyself, and catch no harm ? 
 And find thyself again without a charm ? 
 
 Wouldest read thyself, and read thou knoic'st not ichat 
 And yet know whether thou art bltst or not, 
 By reading the same lines ? O then come hither, 
 And lay my Book, thy Head, and Heart together. 
 
 JOHN BUXYAX. 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS: 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A 
 
 DREAM 
 
 The Gaol. 
 
 A S I walked through_the wilderness of this world, I lighted 
 JT\^ 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. 1 dreamed, and behold I saw a man 
 cloathed with Rags, standing in a certain place, with his face 
 
 CHRISTIAN BREAKS OUT WITH A LAMENTABLE CRY. 
 
 from his own House, a Book in his hand, and a great burden 
 upon his back. I looked, and saw him open the Book, 
 and read therein ; and as he read, he wept and trembled : and 
 not being able longer to contain, he brake out 
 
 i . , 7 77 r 7 
 
 with a lamentable cry ; saying, what shall I do ? 
 
 In this plight therefore he went home, and refrained himself 
 as long as he could, that his Wife and Children should not 
 
 11 
 
12 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent long, because 
 that his trouble increased : wherefore at length he brake his 
 mind to his Wife and Children ; and thus he began to talk to 
 them, O my dear Wife, said he, and you the Children of my 
 bowels, I your dear friend, am in myself undone, by reason of 
 a burden that lieth hard upon me .'/moreover, I am for certain 
 informed that this our City will be burned withjire 
 from Heaven, in which fearjuloverthrow, both 
 myself, with thee, my Wife, and you my sweet babes, shall 
 Heknewnoicay miserably come to ruin; except (the which, yet I 
 of escape as yet. see no t)some way of escape can be found, whereby 
 we may be delivered. At this his Relations were sore amazed ; 
 not for that they believed that what he had said to them was 
 true, but because they thought that some frenzy distemper 
 had got into his head : therefore, it drawing towards night, 
 and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all 
 haste they got him to bed ; but the night was as troublesome 
 to him as the day : wherefore instead of sleeping, he spent it 
 in sighs and tears. So when the morning was come, they 
 would know how he did ; he told them, worse and worse. 
 He also set to talking to them again, but they began to be 
 Carnal Physic hardened; they also thought to drive away his 
 for a Sick Soul, distemper by harsh and surly carriages to him : 
 sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would chide, 
 and sometimes they would quite neglect him : wherefore he 
 began to retire himself to his Chamber to pray for, and pity 
 them ; and also to condole his own misery : he would also 
 walk solitarily in the Fields, sometimes reading, and some- 
 times praying : and thus for some days he spent his time. 
 
 Now, I saw upon a time, when he was walking in the 
 Fields, that he was (as he was wont) reading in his Book, 
 and greatly distressed in his mind ; and as he read, he burst out, 
 as he had done before, crying, What shall I do to be saved? 
 
 I saw also that he looked this wav, and that wav, as if he 
 
 V ' 
 
THE ADVICE OF EVANGELIST 13 
 
 would run ; yet he stood still, because as I perceived he could 
 not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a Man 
 named Evangelist l coming to him, and asked, Wherefore doest 
 thou cry ? He answered, Sir, I perceive, by the Book in my 
 hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that to come to 
 Judgement ; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, 
 nor able to do the second. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die ? since this 
 life is*- attended with so many evils? The Man answered, 
 Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back, will 
 sink me lower than the Grave ; and I shall fall into Tophet. 
 And Sir, if I be not fit to go to Prison, I am not fit (I am 
 sure) to go to Judgement, and from thence to Execution ; 
 and the thoughts of these things make me cry. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why 
 standest thou still ? He answered, Because I know not 
 whither to go. Then he gave him a Parch- 
 
 & Conviction of 
 
 ment Roll, and there was written within, Fly the necessity of 
 from the wrath to come. 
 
 The Man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist 
 very carefully ; said, Whither must I fly ? Then said Evan- 
 gelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide Field, Do you 
 see yonder Wicket-gate ? The Man said, No. Then said the 
 other, Do you see yonder shining light ? He said, I think 
 I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light Christ and the 
 in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt v ' a v to Mm can- 
 
 not be found 
 
 thou see the Gate ; at which when thou knock- without the 
 est, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. Word ' 
 
 So I saw in my Dream, that the Man began to run ; now 
 he had not run far from his own door, but his Wife and 
 
 1 Christian no sooner leaves the World but meets 
 Evangelist, who lovingly him greets 
 With tidings of another : and doth show 
 Him how to mount to that from this below. 
 
14 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Children perceiving it, began to cry after him to return : but 
 the Man put his Fingers in his Ears, and ran on crying, Life, 
 Life, Eternal Life : so he looked not behind him, but fled 
 towards the middle of the Plain. 
 
 Then that fin ^^ e Neighbors also came out to see him run, 
 
 from the wrath an d as he ran, some mocked, others threatned ; 
 
 to come are A . . , 
 
 Gazing stock and some cried alter him to return. And 
 to the world. amon g those that did so, there were two that 
 were resolved to fetch him back by force : the name of the 
 one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now 
 by this time the Man was got a good distance 
 
 Obstinate and J 
 
 Pliable follow from them ; But however they were resolved to 
 pursue him ; which they did, and in a little time 
 they over-took him. Then said the Man, Neighbors, Where- 
 fore are you come ? They said, To perswade you to go back 
 with us ; but he said, That can by no means be : You 
 dwell, said he, in the City of Destruction (the place also 
 where I was born,) I see it to be so ; and dying there, sooner 
 or later, you will sink lower then the Grave, into a place that 
 burns with Fire and Brimstone ; Be content good Neighbors, 
 and go along with me. 
 
 What! said Obstinate, and leave our Friends, and our 
 Obstinate. comforts behind us! 
 
 Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name) because that 
 all is not worthy to be compared with a little 
 
 Christian. J . 
 
 oi that that 1 am seeking to enjoy, and it 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; 
 Come away, and prove my words. 
 
 Ous. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the 
 World to Jind them? 
 
 CHR. I seej<__an Inheritance^ incorrupt il)h\ undc/ilcd, and 
 that fadetfi not uicay ; and it is laid up in Heaven, and 
 safe there, to be bestowed at the time appointed on them 
 
CHRISTIAN FLEES 
 
 15 
 
 that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my 
 Book. 
 
 OBS. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your Book ; will you 
 go back with us, or no ? 
 
 CHRISTIAN FLEES FROM THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION. 
 CHR. No, not I, said the other : because I have laid my 
 
 V 
 
 hand to the Plough. 
 
 OKS. Come then, Neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, and 
 go home without him ; There is a Company of these Craz'd- 
 headed Coxcombs, that when they take a fancy by the end, 
 
16 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render 
 a Reason. 
 
 PLI. Then said Pliable, Don't revile ; if what the good 
 Christian says is true, the things he looks after are better 
 than ours : my heart inclines to go with my Neighbor. 
 
 OBS. What ! more Fools still ? be ruled by me and go back ; 
 who knows whither such a brainsick fellow will lead yon ? Go 
 back, go back, and be wise. 
 Christian and CHR. Nay, but do thou come with me Neigh- 
 
 b01 ' Pliable ' there are SUch thin g S t0 be had 
 
 which I spoke of, and many more Glories 
 besides. If you believe not me, read here in this Book ; 
 and for the truth of what is exprest therein, behold all 
 is confirmed by the blood of him that made it. 
 pliable content- PLI. Well Neighbor Obstinate, (said Pliable) 
 
 ed to go u-ith T J ' * * j. r j. i 
 
 Christian. 1 begin to come to a point ; 1 intend to go 
 
 along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him : 
 But my good Companion, do yon know the way to this desired 
 place ? 
 
 CHR. I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to 
 speed me to a little Gate that is before us, where we shall 
 receive instruction about the way. 
 
 PLI. Come then good Neighbor, let us be going. Then thev 
 went both together. 
 
 Obstinate goes OBS. And I will go back to my place, said 
 
 railing baa. Obstinate. I will be no Companion of such 
 misled fantastical Fellows. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that when Obstinate was gone 
 Talk between back, Christian and Pliable went talking over 
 Pliable. the Plain ; and thus they began their dis- 
 
 course. 
 
 CHR. Come Neighbor Pliable, how do you do ? I am glad 
 you are perswaded to go along with me ; and had even 
 Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the Powers and 
 
GODS UNSPEAKABLE THINGS 17 
 
 Terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly 
 
 *' 
 
 have given us the back. 
 
 PLI. Come Neighbor Christian, since there is none but us two 
 here, tell me now further what the things are, and how to be 
 enjoyed, whither we are going ? 
 
 CHR. I can better conceive of them with my Mind, than 
 speak of them with my Tongue : But yet Go # 8 th i n(J8 
 since you are desirous to know, I will read of unspeakable. 
 them in my Book. 
 
 PLI. And do you think that the words of your Book are 
 certainly true ? 
 
 CHR. Yes verily, for it was made by him that cannot lye. 
 
 PLI. Well said ; what things are they ? 
 
 CHR. There is an endless Kingdom to be inhabited, and i 
 everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit that 
 Kingdom for ever. 
 
 PLI. Well said ; and what else ? 
 
 CHR, There are Crowns of Glory to be given us ; and I 
 Garments that will make us shine like the Sun in the i 
 Firmament of Heaven. 
 
 PLT. This is excellent ; and what else ? 
 
 CHR. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow ; For he / 
 that is owner of the place, will wipe all tears from our eyes. 
 
 PLI. And what company shall we have there ? 
 
 CHR. There we shall be with Seraphims, and Chernbins, 
 Creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them : There 
 also you shall meet with thousands, and ten thousands that 
 have gone before us to that place ; none of them are hurtful, 
 but loving, and holy : every one walking in the sight of God, 
 and standing in his presence with acceptance for ever. In 
 a word, there we shall see the Elders with their Golden 
 Crowns : there we shall see the Holy Virgins with their 
 Golden Harps : there we shall see Men that by the World 
 were cut in pieces, burned in flames, eaten of Beasts, drowned 
 
18 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 in the Seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the 
 place, all well, and cloathed with Immortality as with a 
 Garment. 
 
 PLI. The hearing of this is enough to ravish ones heart ; 
 but are these things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to 
 be Sharers hereof? 
 
 CHR. The Lord, the Governor of that Country, hath 
 recorded that in this Book : the substance of which is, If we 
 be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely. 
 
 PLI. Well, my good Companion, glad am I to hear of these 
 things : Come on, let us mend our pace. 
 
 CHR. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this 
 burden that is upon my back. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that just as they had ended this 
 The Slough of talk, they drew near to a very Miry Slough, that 
 Dtspond. wag j n ^ ne midst O f th e plain, and they being 
 
 heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name 
 of the Slough was Dispond. Here therefore they wallowed 
 for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the dirt ; and 
 Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began 
 to sink in the Mire. 
 
 PLI. Then said Pliable, Ah, Neighbor Christian, where are 
 you now ? 
 
 CHR. Truly, said Christian, I do not know. 
 
 PLI. At that Pliable began to be offended ; and angerly 
 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, ^twixt this and our Journeys end ? 
 it is not enough May I get out again with my life, you shall 
 to be Pliable. possess the brave Country alone for me. And 
 with that he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out 
 of the Mire, on that side of the Slough which was next his 
 own House ; so away he went, and Christian saw him no 
 more. 
 
THE SLOUGH OF DISPOND 19 
 
 Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of 
 
 o 
 
 Dispond alone ; but still he endeavoured to Christian in 
 struggle to that side of the Slough that was trouble seeks 
 still further from his own House, and next to further from 
 the Wicket-gate ; the which he did, but could his Olon House ' 
 not get out, because of the burden that was upon his back. 
 But I beheld in my Dream, that a Man came to him, whose 
 name was Help, and asked him, What he did there ? 
 
 CHR. Sir, said Christian, I was directed 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 you not look for the steps? The Promises. 
 
 CHR. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, 
 and fell in. 
 
 N *"- ' 
 
 HELP. Then, said he, Give me thy hand ! So he gave him 
 his hand, and he drew him out, and set him He i p U f is him 
 upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way. out - 
 
 Then I stepped to him that pluckt him out, and said, Sir, 
 wherefore, since over this place is the way from the City of 
 Destruction to yonder Gate, is it that this Plat is not mended, 
 that poor travellers might go thither with more security ? 
 And he said unto me, This Mini slough is 
 
 ' J What makes the 
 
 such a place as cannot be mended. It is the slough of 
 descent whither the scum and filth that attends 
 conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is 
 called the Slough of Dispond: 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. His Laborers also have, by the direction of 
 His Majestye's Surveyors, been for above this sixteen hundred 
 
 c 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 years imployed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it 
 might have been mended : yea, and to my knowledge, said 
 \ie*Here hath been swallowed up at least twenty million Cart 
 Loads ; yea millions, of wholesome Instructions, that have 
 at all seasons been brought from all places of the Kings 
 Dominions ; (and they that can tell, say, they are the best 
 Materials to make good ground of the place ;) if so be it 
 
 HELP LIFTS CHRISTIAN OUT OF TIIK SLOUGH OF DISPOND. 
 
 might have been mended ; but it is the Slough of Diipond 
 still, and so will be, when they have done what they can. 
 
 True, there are by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain 
 The Promises good and substantial Ste"J)s, placed even through 
 of forgiveness the very midst of this Slouch but at such time 
 
 and acceptance . 
 
 to life it/ faith as this place doth much spue out its hitn, as it 
 
 doth against change of Weather, these steps are 
 
 hardly seen ; or if they be, Men through the dizziness of 
 
PLIABLE GOT HOME 21 
 
 their heads, step besides ; 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. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that by this time Pliable was 
 got home to his House again. So his Neighbors pu a ue got 
 came to visit him : and some of them called him home and is 
 
 visited of ins 
 
 wise Man for coming back ; and some called Neighbors. 
 
 him Fool, for hazarding himself with Christian; melit^ythem at 
 others again did mock at his Cowardliness ; his return - 
 saying, Surely since you began to venture, I would not have 
 been so base to have given out for a few difficulties. So 
 Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more 
 confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to 
 deride poor Christian behind his back. 
 
 And thus much concerning Pliable. 
 
 Now r as Christian was walking solitary by himself, he espied 
 one afar off come crossing over the field to woridi - 
 
 meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as Wiseman meets 
 
 e i ,1 rpn with Christian. 
 
 they were crossing the way or each other. Ine 
 Gentleman's name was Mr. Worldly- Wiseman ; he dwelt in 
 the Town of Carnal- Policy, a very great Town, and also hard 
 by from whence Christian came. This man then meeting with 
 Christian, and having some inkling of him, for Christian's 
 setting forth from the City of Destruction was much noised 
 abroad, not only in the Town where he dwelt, but also it 
 began to be the Town-talk in some other places. Master 
 Worldly-Wiseman therefore, having some guess of him, by 
 beholding his laborious going, by observing his sighs and 
 groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with 
 Christian. 
 
 WORLD. How now, good fellow, whither away Talk be 
 after this burdened manner? ^wisema 
 
 CHR. A burdened manner indeed, as ever Christian. 
 1 think poor creature had. And whereas you ask me, 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Whither away, I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder Wicket- 
 gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put 
 into a way to be rid of my heavy burden. 
 
 WORLD. Heist thou a Wife and Children? 
 
 CHR. Yes, but I am so laden with this burden, that I can- 
 not take that pleasure in them as formerly : methinks, I am 
 as if I had none. 
 
 WOULD. Wilt thou hearken to me, if I give thec counsel? 
 
 CHR. If it be good, I will ; for I stand in need of good 
 counsel. 
 Mr. Worldly- WORLD. / would advise thec then, that thou 
 
 ^CoimseTto wlth ctl1 s P eed S ei tll " sc tf rlcl f % burden; for 
 
 Christian. thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then : 
 
 nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessing which God hath 
 bestowed upon thee till then. 
 
 CHR. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this 
 heavy burden ; but get it off myself I cannot : nor is there 
 a 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. 
 
 
 
 WOULD. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden ? 
 CHR. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and 
 honorable person : his name, as I remember, is Evangelist. 
 
 A 
 
 Mr Worldly- WoELD. I beshrow him for his counsel; there 
 
 Wiseman \ s no i a more dangerous and troublesome wait in 
 
 Condemned 7 T 7 7-77777- 
 
 Evangelists the world than is that unto which he hath directed 
 
 Counsel. 
 
 ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something (ax 
 I perceive) already ; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Dispond 
 is upon thee but that Slough /-v 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, Wearisoinness, Painfulness, Hunger, /Y/v'/.v, Nalted- 
 netui, Sword, Lions, Dragon*, Darkness, and in a word, death, 
 
MR. WORLDLY-WISEMAN 23 
 
 and what not ? These things are certainly true, having been 
 confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so 
 carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a stranger? 
 
 CHR. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is n>e frame of 
 more terrible to me than all these things which ^f M ^ a7 
 you have mentioned : nay, methinks I care not Christians. 
 what I meet with in the way, so be I can also meet with 
 deliverance from my burden. 
 
 WORLD. How earnest thou by thy burden atjirst ? 
 
 CHR. By reading this Book in my hand. 
 
 AVoRLD. I thought so; and it is happened unto thee as 
 to other weak men, who meddling with things too Wortdiy-Wue- 
 
 _ 77 7 7 r . ,, 7 . man does not 
 
 high jor them, do suddenly jail into thy disirac- like that Men 
 tions ; which distractions do not only unman ^e^t^fnread- 
 men, (as thine I perceive has done thee} but they ing the Bible. 
 run them upon desperate ventures, to obtain they know not 
 what. 
 
 CHR. I know what I would obtain ; it is ease for my heavy 
 burden. 
 
 WORLD. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing 
 so many dangers attend it, especially, since (hadst iviiether 
 thou but patience to hear me,) I could direct thee to P r e f ers MO- 
 the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the r 
 dangers that thou in this way wilt run thy self Gate. 
 into : yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add^ 
 that instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet with much safety, 
 friendship, and content. 
 
 CHR. Pray, Sir, open this secret to me. 
 
 WORLD. Why in yonder Village, (the Village is named 
 Morality) there dwells a Gentleman, whose name is Legality, 
 a very judicious man (and a man of a very good name) that 
 has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are from 
 their shoulders: yea, to my knowledge he hath done a great 
 deal of good this way : Aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 those that are somewhat crazed in tlieir 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 neighbors, in credit 
 and good fashion. 
 
 Christian Now was Christian somewhat at a stand, but 
 
 Snared by presently he concluded ; if this be true which 
 
 Mr. Worldly- . J . . 
 
 Wiseman's this Gentleman hath said, my wisest course 
 
 is to take his advice ; and with that he thus 
 farther spoke. 
 
 CHR. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house ? 
 Mount Sinai. WORLD. Do you see yonde r high hill? 
 
 CHR. Yes, very well. 
 
 WORLD. By that Hill you must go, and the first house you 
 come at is his. 
 
 So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality's 
 house for help ; but behold, when he was got now hard by the 
 Hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was next 
 Christian the wa j s ^ e did hang so much over, that 
 
 that Christian was afraid to venture further, lost 
 would fail on the Hill should fall on his head: wherefore 
 there he stood still, and he wot not what to do. 
 Also his burden, now, seemed heavier to him than while he 
 was in his way." There came also flashes of fire out of the 
 Hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned. 
 
EVANGELIST FINDS CHRISTIAN UNDER MOUNT SINAI, 
 
MOUNT SINAI 27 
 
 Here therefore he sweat, and did quake for fear. And now 
 he began to be sorry that he had taken Evangelist 
 Mr. Worldly- Wisemans counsel ; and with that ft? d ? tfl . 
 
 u . Christian 
 
 he saw Evangelist coining to meet him ; at the under Mount 
 sight also of whom he began to blush for shame, iwketh severely 
 So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer, and vpon him - 
 coining up to him, he looked upon him with a severe and 
 dreadful countenance : and thus began to reason with 
 Christian. 
 
 EVAN. What doest thou here ? Christian, said he ? at which 
 word Christian knew not what to answer : where- 
 
 Evangehst 
 
 fore, at present he stood speechless before him. reasons afresh 
 Then said Evangelist farther, Art not thou the 
 man that I found crying without the walls of the City of 
 Destruction ? 
 
 CHK. Yes, dear Sir. I am the man. 
 
 EVAX. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicket- 
 gate ? 
 
 CHK. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. 
 
 EVAN. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside? 
 for thou art now out of the way. 
 
 CHK. I met with a Gentleman, so soon as I had got over 
 the Slough of Dispond, who perswaded me that I might, 
 in the Village before me, find a nfan that could take off my 
 burden. 
 
 EVAN. What was he ? 
 
 CHK. 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 ? 
 
 CHK. Why, he asked me whither I was going, and I told 
 him. 
 
 EVAN. And what said he then ? 
 
 c3 
 
28 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHK. 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. 
 
 EVAK. And what said lie then ? 
 
 CHR. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden, and 
 I told him, 'twas ease that I sought : And said I, I am there- 
 fore going; to yonder Gate to receive further direction how 
 
 o & . 
 
 I may get to the place of deliverance. So he said that lie 
 would shew me a better way, and short, not so attended with 
 difficulties, as the way, Sir, that you set me : 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. 
 
 EVANG. Then (said Evangelist) stand still a little* that I may 
 shew thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. Then 
 (said Evangelist) See that ye refuse not him that spedkefh ; for 
 Evangelist if they escaped not who refused liim that spake on 
 
 C ChristSnof Earth, much more shall not :ce escape, if we turn 
 his Error. away from him that speaketh from Heaven. He 
 
 said moreover, Now the just shall live by faith , but if any 
 man draws back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him. He 
 also did thus apply them, Thou art the man that art running 
 into this misery, thou hast began 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- 
 
 ' ^J ' 
 
 is me, for I am undone : at the sight of which Evangelist 
 caught him by the right hand, saying, all manner of sin and 
 blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men ; be not faithless, but 
 believing; then did Christian again a little revive, and stood 
 up trembling, as at first, before Evangelist. 
 
THE ADVICE OF EVANGELIST 29 
 
 Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earnest heed 
 to the things that I shall tell thee of. I will now shew thee 
 who it was that deluded thee, and who 'twas also to whom he 
 sent thee. The man that met thee, is one Mr. Worldly- 
 Worldly -Wiseman 1 , and rightly is he so called ; described by 
 partly, because he savoureth only the Doctrine of Evangelist. 
 this world (therefore he always goes to the Town of Morality 
 to Church) and partly because he loveth that Doctrine best, 
 for it saveth him from the Cross ; and. -because he is of 
 this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to pre- 
 
 vent my ways, though right. Now there are discovers the 
 three things in this mans counsel that thou Mr. Woridiy- 
 must utterly abhor : Wiseman. 
 
 1. His turning thee out of the way. 
 
 . His labouring to render the Cross odious to thee. 
 
 3. And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto 
 the administration of Death. 
 
 First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way ; 
 yea, and thine own consenting thereto : because this is to 
 reject the counsel of God, for the sake of the counsel of 
 a Worldly- Wiseman. The Lord says, Strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate, the gate to which I sent thee ; for strait is 
 the gate that leadeth unto life, and feic there be that Jind 
 it. From this little wicket-gate, and from the way thereto 
 hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing 
 of thee almost to destruction ; hate therefore his turning 
 thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to 
 him. 
 
 Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the 
 Cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it before the 
 
 1 When Christians unto carnal men give ear, 
 Out of their way they go, and pay for't dear 
 For master Worldly-Wiseman can but shew 
 A Saint the way to Bondage and to woe. 
 
30 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 treasures of Egypt : besides, the King of Glory hath told thee, 
 that he that will save his life shall lose it : and he that comes 
 after him, and hates not Ins father, and mother, (uid icife, and 
 children, and brethren, and sisters ; yea, and his oicn life also, 
 he cannot be my Disciple. I say therefore, for a man to labour 
 to perswade 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 
 Avay 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, 
 T/ie Bond- ^ the Son of the Bond-woman which now is, and 
 
 is in bondage with her children, and is in a 
 mystery this Mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall 
 on thy head. Now if she with her children are in bondage, 
 how canst thou expect by them to be made free ? This 
 Legality therefore is not able to set thee free from thy 
 burden. No man was as yet ever rid of his burden by him, 
 no, nor ever is like to be: ye cannot be justified by the 
 Works of the Law ; for by the deeds of the Law no man 
 living can be rid of his burden : therefore Mr. Worldlij- 
 Wiseman is an alien, and Mr. Legality a cheat : and for his 
 son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but 
 an hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is 
 nothing in all this noise, that thou hast heard of this sottish 
 man, but a design to beguile thee of thy Salvation, by turn- 
 ing thee from the way in which I had set thee. After this 
 Evangelist called aloud to the Heau-ns for confirmation 
 of what he had said ; and with that there came word* and 
 tire out of the Mountain under which poor Christian stood, 
 that made the hair of his flesh stand. The \\ords \\ere thus 
 pronounced, As many as are of (he icurks of the Laic, are 
 
CHRISTIAN AT THE GATE 31 
 
 under the cnrse ; for it is written. Cursed is every one that 
 coutinnctli not in all things which are written in the Book of 
 the Law to do them. 
 
 Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to 
 cry out lamentably, even cursing the time in which he met 
 with Mr. Worldly- Wiseman, still calling himself a thousand 
 fools for hearkening to his counsel ; he also was greatly 
 ashamed to think that this Gentleman's arguments, flowing 
 only from the flesh, should have that prevalency with him to 
 forsake the right Avay. This done, he applied himself again 
 to Evangelist in words and sense as follows. 
 
 CHR. Sir, what think you ? is there hopes ? may I now 
 go back, and go up to the Wicket-gate ? Shall Christian 
 I not be abandoned for this, and sent back he ay ye l t 
 from thence ashamed ? I am sorry I have be Ha PPV' 
 hearkened to this man's counsel, but may my sin lie for- 
 * ? 
 
 >D 
 
 EVAXG. 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 
 paths : yet will the man of the Gate receive comforts itim. 
 tliee, 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. Then did Christian 
 address himself to go back, and Evangelist, after he had 
 kist 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 man asked him, would he vouchsafe 
 them an answer. He went like one that was all the while 
 treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think 
 himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he 
 left to follow Mr. Worldly -Wisemans counsel. So in pro- 
 cess of time, Christian got up to the Gate. Now over the 
 Gate there was written, Knock and it shall be opened unto 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 you. He knocked therefore l , more than once or twice, saying, 
 
 May I now enter here? will he within 
 Open to sorry me, though I have been 
 An undeserving Rebel? then shall I 
 Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high. 
 
 CHRISTIA.V AT THE WICKET-GATE. 
 
 At last there came a grave Person to the Gate, named Good- 
 He 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. 
 
ADMITTED BY GOOD WILL 33 
 
 will, who asked Who was there? and whence he came? and 
 what he would have ? 
 
 CHR. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from 
 the City of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, 
 that I may be delivered from the wrath to come. I would 
 therefore, Sir, since I am informed that by this Gate is 
 the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in. 
 
 GOOD WILL. I am willing with all my heart, The Gate will 
 said he ; and with that he opened the Gate. llXntlrted 
 
 So, when Christian was stepping in, the other sinners. 
 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 
 the Captain : from thence both he, and them f 
 that are with him shoot Arrows at those that Gate - 
 come up to this Gate ; if haply they may die before they can 
 enter in. Then said Christian, I rejoice and Christian 
 tremble. So when he was got in, the Man of 
 the Gate asked him, Who directed him thither ? trembling. 
 
 CHU. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, (as I did ;) 
 And he said, that you, Sir, would tell me what Talk between 
 
 , Good Will and 
 
 I must do. Christian. 
 
 GOOD WILL. An open Door is set before tJiee, and no man 
 can shut it. 
 
 CHR. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards. 
 
 Goon WILL. But how is it that you came alone ? 
 
 CHR. Because none of my Neighbors saw their danger, as 
 I saw mine. 
 
 
 
 GOOD WILL. Did any of them know of your coming? 
 CHR. Yes, my Wife and Children saw me at the first, and 
 called after me to turn a^ain : Also some of my Neighbors 
 
 ^j > ) 
 
 stood crying, and calling after me to return ; but I put my 
 Fingers in my Ears, and so came on my way. 
 
 GOOD WILL. But did none of them follow you, to perswade 
 you to go back ? 
 
34 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Yes, both Obstinate, and Pliable : But when they saw 
 that they could not prevail, Obstinate went railing back ; but 
 Pliable came with me a little way. 
 
 GOOD WILL. But ivhy did he not come through ? 
 CHK. We indeed came both together, until we came at the 
 Slough of Dispond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And 
 then was my Neighbor Pliable discouraged, and 
 nave Company would not adventure further. Wherefore get- 
 Ut ^ n 11 ^ aam on that side next to his own 
 
 and yet go House, he told me, I should possess the brave 
 
 thither alone. i ^ i c 7 
 
 Country alone lor him : ho he went Ins way, 
 
 * 
 
 and I came mine. He after Obstinate, and I to this Gate. 
 
 GOOD AViLL. Then said Good Will, Alas poor Man, is the 
 ('celestial Glorv of so small esteem with him, that he counteth 
 
 
 
 it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to 
 obtain it. 
 
 CHR. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, 
 and if I should also say the truth of myself, it will appear 
 Christian ac- there is no betterment 'twixt him and myself. 
 
 cnseth himself ^ t ] went J^ to his Own house, but I 
 
 before the man 
 
 at the Gate. also turned aside to go in the way of death, 
 beino- perswaded thereto by the carnal arguments of one 
 
 O I O 
 
 Mr. H r orldly - J J r isem an. 
 
 GOOD WILL. Oh, did he light upon you ? what, he would 
 have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. Legality ; 
 
 they are both of them a very cheat : But did you take his 
 
 . 
 
 counsel ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, as far as I durst : I went to find out Mr. Legality* 
 until I thought that the Mountain that stands by his house, 
 
 C5 
 
 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: 'tis well you escaped 
 being by it dasht in pieces. 
 
 CHR. Wiry, truly I do not know what had become of me 
 
CHRISTIAN IS COMFORTED 35 
 
 there, had not Evangelist happily met me again as I was 
 musing in the midst of my clumps : but 'twas Gods mercy that 
 lie came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But 
 now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit indeed for death 
 by that Mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord : 
 But O, what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted 
 entrance here. 
 
 GOOD WILL. We make no objections against any, 
 notwithstanding all that they have done before Christian com- 
 they come hither, they in no wise are cast out, forted again. 
 and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me, and 
 I will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look before 
 thee ; dost thou see this narrow way ? THAT 
 
 Christian 
 IS the way thou must go. It was cast up by directed yet on 
 
 the Patriarchs, Prophets, Christ, and his Apos- 
 tles ; and it is as straight as a Rule can make it : This is 
 Ihe way thou must go. 
 
 CHR. But said Christian. Is there no turnin&snor Christian 
 
 afraid of losing 
 
 windings by which a Stranger may lose the way? MS way, 
 
 GOOD WILL. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon 
 this; and they are crooked, and wide : But thus thou may'st 
 distinguish the right from the wrong, That only being straight 
 and narrow. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, That Christian Christian 
 asked him further, If he could not help him off weary of his 
 with his burden that was upon his back ; for 
 as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he by any means 
 get it off without help. 
 
 He told him ; As to thy burden, be content to bear it, until 
 thou comest to the place of Deliverance; for There is no 
 there it will fall from thy back itself. deliverance 
 
 J rom the guilt 
 
 Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and burden oj 
 and to address himself to his Journey. So the deathandblood 
 other told him, that by that he was gone some of Christ, 
 
36 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 distance from the Gate, he would come at the House of the 
 Interpreter; at whose Door he should knock; and he would 
 shew him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of 
 his Friend, and he again bid him God speed. 
 Christian Then he went on, till he came at the House 
 
 Hwe^ftke of the Interpreter, where he knocked over and 
 interpreter. over . a t last one came to the Door, and asked 
 Who was there ? 
 
 CHR. Sir, here is a Traveller, who was bid by an acquain- 
 tance of the Good-man of this House, to call here for my 
 profit : I would therefore speak with the Master of the 
 House. So he called for the Master of the House ; who 
 after a little time came to Christian, and asked him what he 
 would have ? 
 
 CHR. Sir, said Christian, I am a Man that am come from 
 the City of Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion, 
 and I was told by the Man that stands at the Gate, at the 
 head of this way, That if I called here, you would shew me 
 excellent things, such as would be an help to me in my 
 Journey. 
 
 INTER. Then said the Interpreter, Come in, I will shew 
 He is enter- thee that which will be profitable to thee. So 
 tained. h e commanded his Man to light the Candle, and 
 
 illumination. b;d Christian follow him ; so he had him into 
 a private Room, and bid his Man open a Door ; the which 
 Christian sees when he had done, Christian saw the Picture of 
 a brave Picture. a ver y g rave Person hang up against the Wall, 
 
 The fashion of an( l this was the fashion of it. // had eyes lift 
 the Picture. u ^ f o ff earen ^ the best of Books in hi* hand, the 
 
 Law of Truth was written upon his lips, the World was 
 behind his bach'; it stood as if it pleaded with Men, and 
 a Crown of Gold did hang orer his head. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 
 INTKK. The Man whose Picture this is, is one of a, 
 
THE DUSTY PARLOUR 37 
 
 thousand; he can beget Children, travel in birth with 
 Children, 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 shew thee, that his work is to know and unfold 
 dark things to sinners ; even as also thou seest The meaning of 
 him stand as if he pleaded with Men : And the Picture - 
 whereas thou seest the World as cast behind him, and that 
 a Crown hangs over his head ; that is, to shew thee that 
 slighting and despising the things that are present, for the 
 love that he hath to his Masters service, he is sure in the 
 World that comes next to have Glory for his Reward. Now, 
 said the Interpreter, I have shewed thee this lvjiy h& shewfd 
 Picture first, because the Man whose Picture Mm the Picture 
 
 first, 
 
 this is, is the only Man, whom the Lord of the 
 Place whither thou art going, hath authorized to be thy 
 Guide in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the 
 way : wherefore take good heed to what I have shewed thee, 
 and bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen ; lest in thy 
 Journey thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right? 
 but their way goes down to death. 
 
 *' t_j 
 
 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 choaked. Then said the Interpreter to 
 a Damsel that stood by, Bring hither the Water, and sprinkle 
 the Room ; which when she had done, it was swept and 
 cleansed with pleasure. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 
 INTER. The Interpreter answered ; this Parlour is the heart I 
 of a Man that was never sanctified by the sweet Grace of the / 
 Gospel : the chist, is his Original Sin, and inward Corruptions 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 that have defiled the whole Man. He that began to sweep 
 j at first is the Law ; but She that brought water, and did 
 sprinkle it, is the Gospel. Now, whereas thou sawest that so 
 soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about 
 that the Room by him could not be cleansed, but that thou 
 wast almost choaked therewith : this is to shew thee, that 
 
 THK DUSTY PARLOUR ix THE INTERPRETER'S Housi;. 
 
 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, but doth not snve 
 
 ' o 
 
 power to subdue. 
 
 Again, as thou sawest the Damsel sprinkle the Room with 
 Water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure ; this is to 
 shew thee, that when the Gospel comes in the sweet and 
 precious influences thereof to the heart, then, I sav, even as 
 
 thou sawest the Damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the Floor 
 
 . i ~ 
 
 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. 
 
 I saw moreover in my Dream, that the Interpreter took him 
 
PASSION AND PATIENCE 39 
 
 by the hand, and had him into a little Room, where sate two 
 little Children, each one in his Chair. The He shetrefl j,^ 
 name of the eldest was Passion, and of the other ^*f on and 
 
 Patiencf. 
 
 Patience. Passion seemed to be much discon- Passion u-m 
 
 i r, j rni /~7 have al1 now - 
 
 tent, but Patience was very quiet, ihen Chris- 
 tian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion ? 
 The Interpreter answered, The Governor of them would have 
 him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next 
 (year; but he will have all now: 'Bui Patience Patience is for 
 * is willing to wait, lvaitinff ' 
 
 Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him 
 a Bag of Treasure, and poured it down at his p ass ion MS MS 
 feet ; the which he took up, and rejoiced therein ; ae ^ re - 
 and withal, laughed Patience to scorn. But 
 
 And quickly 
 
 I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all lavishes all 
 away, and had nothing left him but Rags. 
 
 CHK. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, The matter 
 Expound this matter more fully to me. expounded. 
 
 INTER. So he said, These two Lads are Figures ; Passion, 
 of the Men of this World ; and Patience, of the Men of that 
 which is to come. For as here thou seest, Passion will have 
 all now, this year ; that is to say, in this World ; $o 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, \v--iu 
 
 A Bird in the Hand is worth two in the Bush, is Man for a Bird 
 of more Authority with them, than are all the 
 Divine Testimonies of the good of the World to come. But 
 as thou sawest, that he had quickly lavished all away, and 
 had presently left him, nothing but Rags; so will it be with 
 all such Men at the end of this World. 
 
 CHII. Then said Christian, Jfow I sec that Patience hats the > 
 best Wisdom , and that upon many accounts, patience had I 
 1. Because he stays for the best things. 2. And 
 
40 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 also because he will have the glory of Ins., when the other hath 
 nothing but Rags. 
 
 INTER. Nay, you may add another ; to wit, the Glory of 
 I 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 
 
 Things that are * asi ' ^ or fo^ must gi ye place to last, because 
 first must give last must have his time to come, but last gives 
 
 place, but things ,~ . . . 
 
 that are last, place to nothing; for there is not another to 
 
 are lasting. succeedT" He therefore that hath his Portion 
 
 Jirst, must needs have a time to spend it ; but he that has his 
 
 Portion last, must have it lastingly. Therefore it is said of 
 
 Dices had his Dives, In thy lifetime thou rcceivedest thy good 
 
 good things things, and likewise Lazarus evil things ; But 
 
 now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. 
 
 CHR. Then I perceive, "'tis not best to covet things that are 
 now ; but to wait for things to come. 
 
 INTER. You say Truth ; For the things that are seen, arc 
 Temporal ; but the things that are not seen, are 
 
 The first things r & 
 
 a>-e but Eternal. But though this be so ; yet since 
 
 things present, and our fleshly appetite, are 
 such near Neighbors one to another; and again, because 
 things to come, and carnal sense, are such strangers one to 
 another : therefore it is, that the first of these so suddenly 
 fall into amity, and that distance is so continued between 
 the second. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that the Interpreter took Christian 
 by the hand, and led him into a place where was a Fire 
 burning against a Wall, and one standing by it always, cast- 
 ing much Water upon it to quench it : yet did the Fire burn 
 higher and hotter. 
 
 Then said Christian, What meatis this ? 
 
 The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of Grace 
 
THE VALIANT MAN 41 
 
 that is wrought in the heart ; he that casts Water upon it, to 
 extinguish and put it out, is the Devil: but in that thou 
 seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou 
 shalt also see the reason of that : So he had him about to 
 the back side of the Wall, where he saw a Man with a Vessel 
 of Oil in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast 
 (but secretly,) into the fire. Then said Christian, What 
 means this ? The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who 
 continually, with the Oil of his Grace, maintains the work 
 already begun in the heart ; by the means of which, notwith- 
 standing what the Devil can do, the souls of his People 
 prove gracious still. And in that thou sawest that the Man ' 
 stood behind the Wall to maintain the fire ; this is to teach 
 thee, that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of 
 Grace is maintained in the soul. 
 
 I saw also that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, 
 and led him into a pleasant place, where was 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 walked, w-ho w r ere cloathed all in Gold. 
 Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? Then the 
 Interpreter took him, and led him up toward the door of the 
 Palace ; and behold, at the door stood a great Company of 
 men, as desirous to go in, but durst not, There also sat 
 a Man, at a little distance from the door, at a Table-side, 
 with a Book, and his Inkhorn before him, to take the Name 
 of him that should enter therein : He saw r also that in the 
 doorway, stood many Men in Armor to keep it ; being 
 resolved to do to the Man that would enter, what hurt and 
 mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in a maze: 
 at last, when every Man started back for fear of the armed 
 men ; Christian saw a Man of a very stout coun- The y a iiant 
 tenance come up tb the Man that sat there to Man - 
 write ; saying, Set down my name, 8\r ; the which when he 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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, 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, 
 
 ftjj 
 
 Come in, Come in ; 
 
 Eternal Glory thou shalt win. 
 
 So he went in, and was cloathed with such Garments as 
 they. Then Christian smiled, and said, I think verily I know 
 the meaning of this. 
 
 Now, said Christian, let me go hence : Nay stay (said the 
 Interpreter,) till I have shewed thee a little more, and after 
 that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand 
 Despair like an again, and led him into a very dark Room, 
 iron Cage. wheje 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. 
 
 CHU. Then said Christian to the Man, What art thou ? 
 The Man answered, / am what I zvas not once. 
 
 CHII. What watt thou once ? J^ 
 
 MAX. The jfan said, I wa^Rice a fair and flourishing 
 
 o 
 Professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes o 
 
 others : I once was, as I thought, fair for the CVrlcstiul Citv, 
 and had then even joy at the thoughtJfcthat I should get 
 thither. 
 
THE MAN IN AN IRON CAGE 43 
 
 CHR. Well, but what art thou now ? 
 
 MAX. I am now a Man of Despair, and am shut up 
 in it, as in this Iron Cage. I cannot get out ; O now 
 I cannot.. 
 
 CHR. But how earnest thou in this condition ? 
 
 MAX. I left oft' to watch, and be sober ; I laid the reins 
 upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the 
 Word, and the goodness of God : I have grieved the Spirit, 
 and he is gone ; I tempted the Devil, and he is come to me ; 
 I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me ; I have so 
 hardened my heart, that I cannot repent. 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hopes 
 for such a Man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, Is there no hope but you must be 
 kept in the Iron Cage of Despair ? 
 
 MAX. No, none at all. 
 
 CHII. Why ? The Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. 
 
 MAX. I have crucified him to myself, afresh. I have 
 despised his Person, I have despised his Righteousness, I have 
 counted his Blood an unholy thing, I have done despite to 
 the Spirit of Grace : Therefore I have shutf^^self out of all 
 the Promises ; and there now remains to^^ nothing but 
 threatnings, dreadful threatnings, faithful threatnings of cer- 
 tain Judgment, which shall devour me as an Adversary. 
 
 INTER. For what did you bring yourself into this con- 
 dition ? 
 
 MAX. For the Lusts, Pleasures, and Profits of this World ; 
 in the enjoyment of which, I did then promise my self much 
 delight ; but now every one ^H:hose things also bite me, and 
 gnaw me like a burning wor^P * 
 
 ^ INTER. But canst thou not now repent and turn ? 
 
 MAX. God hath denied me repentance ; his Word gives 
 me no encouragement to believe; yea, himself hath shut me 
 up in this Iron Cage ; nor can all the men in the World let 
 
44 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 me out. O Eternity ! Eternity ! how shall I grapple with 
 the misery that I must meet with in Eternity ! 
 
 INTER. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this 
 mans misery be remembred by thee, and be an everlasting 
 caution to thee. 
 
 CHR. Well, said Christian, this is fearful ; God help me to 
 watch and be sober ; and to pray, that I may shun the causes 
 of this mans misery. Sir, is it not time for me to go on my 
 way now ? 
 
 INTER. Tarry till I shall shew thee one thing more, and 
 then thou shalt go on thy way. 
 
 So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into 
 a Chamber, where there was one rising out of Bed ; and as he 
 put on his Raiment, he shook and trembled. Then said 
 Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter 
 then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So 
 he began, and said : This night as I was in my sleep, I 
 Dreamed, and behold the Heavens grew exceeding black ; 
 also it thundred and lightlied 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 on a burning flame. 
 I heard then a voice, saying, Arise ye- Dead, and come to 
 Judgment ; and with that, the Rocks rent, the Graves opened, 
 & the Dead that were therein, came forth ; some of them 
 were exceeding glad, and looked upward ; and some sought to 
 hide themselves under the Mountains. Then I saw the Man 
 that sat upon the Cloud, open- the Book ; and bid the World 
 draw near. Yet there was by reason of a fierce flame that 
 issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance 
 betwixt him and them, as betwixt the Judge and the Prisoners 
 at the Bar. I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended 
 
CHRISTIAN GOES ON HIS WAY 45 
 
 on the Man that sat on the Cloud ; Gather together the Tares, 
 the Chaff, and Stubble, and cast them into the burning Lake ; 
 and with that, the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I 
 stood ; out of the 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. And with that I saw many catch'd up and carried 
 away into the Clouds, but I was left behind. I also sought 
 to hide myself, but I could not ; for the Man that sat upon 
 the Cloud, still kept his eye upon me : my sins also came into 
 my mind, and my Conscience did accuse me on every side, 
 Upon this I awaked from my sleep. 
 
 CHR. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight ? 
 
 MAX. Why I thought the day of Judgement was come, 
 and that I was not ready for it : but this frighted me most, 
 that the Angels gathered up several, and left me behind ; also 
 the pit of Hell opened her mouth just where I stood : my 
 Conscience too afflicted me ; and as I thought, the Judge 
 had always his eye upon me, shewing indignation in his 
 countenance. 
 
 Then said the Inte rpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered 
 all these things ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and they put me in hope andjfear. 
 
 INTER, Well, keep all things so in thy mind, that they may 
 be as a Goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way 
 thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and 
 to address himself to his Journey. Then said the Interpreter, 
 The Comforter be always with thee good Christian, to guide 
 thee in the way that leads to the City. 
 
 So Christian went on his way, saying, 
 Here have I seen things rare and profitable , 
 Things pleasant, dreadful , things to make me stable 
 
 I In what I have began to take in hand : 
 
 
 
 Then let me think on them, and understand 
 
46 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Wherefore they shewed me icas, and let me be 
 Thankful, good Interpreter, to thee. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that the highway up which 
 Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a Wall, 
 and that Wall is called Salvation. Up this way therefore 
 did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, 
 because of the load on his back. 
 
 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending ; 
 and upon that place stood a Cross, and a little below in the 
 bottom, a Sepulchre. So I saw in my Dream, that just as 
 Christian came up with the Cross, his burden loosed from off 
 his Shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble ; 
 and so continued to do, till it came to the mouth of the 
 Sepylchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more *. 
 
 Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with 
 When God a merry heart, He hath given me rest, by hi* 
 
 uTguiu*and sorrow ; and life, by his death. Then he stood 
 burden, we are tfft & while, to look and wonder; for it was 
 
 as those that 
 
 leap for joy. very surprising to him, that the sight of the 
 Cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked 
 therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were 
 Sn his head sent the waters down his cheeks. Now as he 
 stood looking and weeping, behold three shining ones came 
 to him, and saluted him, with Peace be to thee : so the first 
 said to him, Thy sins be forgiven. The second, stript him 
 of his Rags, and cloathed him with change of Raiment. The 
 third also set a mark in his forehead, and gave him a Roll with 
 a Seal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he 
 should give it in at the Coelestial Gate ; so they went their way. 
 
 1 Who's this ; the Pilgrim. How ! 'tis very true, 
 Old things are past away, all's become new. 
 Strange ! he's another man upon my word, 
 They be fine Feathers that make a fine Bird. 
 
CHRISTIAN LOSES HIS BURDEN AT THE CROSS. 
 
CHRISTIAN RECEIVES HIS ROLL 49 
 
 Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing, 
 Thus far did I come loaden with my tin ; A Christian 
 
 A-r 77 7 j ,7 n ,7 . T ' CaH Sin 9 tjl0 ' 
 
 J\or could ought ease me gnej that 1 teas /;/, alone, when 
 Till I came hither: What a place is this! % 
 
 Must here be the beginning of my bliss? his heart. 
 
 CHRISTIAN RECEIVES HIS ROLL. 
 
 Must here the burden fall from off my back ? 
 Must here the strings that bound it to me crack? 
 Blest Cross! blest Sepulchre! blest rather be 
 The Man that there was pu t to shame for me. 
 
 I saw then in my Dream *\iat he went on thus, even until 
 he came at a bottom, where ae saw r , a little out of the way, 
 
50 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 three Men fast asleep with Fetters upon their heels. The 
 Simple, Sloth, name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, and 
 
 and Presump- , . , ~ . 
 
 the third Presumption. 
 
 Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, 
 if peradventure he might awake them. And cried, You are 
 like them that sleep on the top of a Mast, for the dead Sea 
 is under you, a Gulf that hath no bottom. Awake therefore 
 and come away ; be willing also, and I will help you off with 
 your Irons. He also told them, If he that goeth about lik^ 
 a roaring Lion comes by, you will certainly become a prey to 
 his teeth. With that they lookt upon him, and began to 
 There is no reply in this sort ; Simple said, / see no danger ; 
 
 persuasion will fifo^ sa ^ Yet a little more sleep : and Presump- 
 
 do, if God 7 
 
 openeth not the tion said, Every Fait must stand upon his own 
 bottom. 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, counseling 
 of them, and proffering to help them off with their Irons. 
 And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two Men come 
 tumbling over the Wall, on the left hand of the narrow way ; 
 and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was 
 Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I 
 said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with them 
 into discourse. 
 Christian CHR. Gentlemen* Whence came you* and whither 
 
 talked itith 
 
 them. do yon go ? 
 
 FORM, and HYP. We were born in the land of Yam-glory. 
 
 i ? +> ' 
 
 and are going for praise to Mount Sion. 
 
 CHR. 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 cometh not in by the door, but climbeth up some 
 other way, the same is a thief and a robber? 
 
FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY 51 
 
 FORM, and HYP. They said, That to go to the Gate for 
 entrance, was by all their Countrymen counted too far about ; 
 and that therefore their usual way was to make a short cut 
 of it, and to climb over the wall as they had done. 
 
 CHR. But will it not be counted a Trespass against the Lord 
 of the City whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed 
 will? 
 
 FORM, and HYP. They told him, That as for that, he 
 needed not to trouble his head thereabout : They that come 
 for what they did, they had custom for; and J"f, !*fl va % a 
 
 */ * Otiv iiOtJ Ou c 'to 
 
 could produce, if need were, Testimony that door, think 
 
 J J that they can 
 
 would witness it, for more than a thousand say something 
 
 In vindication 
 veais. of their OR-n 
 
 CHR. But, said Christian, will your practice Practice. 
 stand a Trial at Law ? 
 
 FORM, and HYP. They told him, That Custom, it being of 
 so long a standing, as above a thousand years, would doubt- 
 less now be admitted as a thing legal, by an Impartial Judge. 
 And besides, said they, if we get into the way, what's matter 
 which way we get in ? If we are in," we are in : thou art but 
 in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the Gate ; and 
 we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall. 
 Wherein now is thy condition better than ours ? 
 
 CHR. I walk by the Rule of my Master, you walk by the 
 rude working of your fancies. You are counted thieves 
 already, by the Lord of the way ; therefore I doubt you will 
 not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in 
 by yourselves without his direction, and shall go out by 
 yourselves without his mercy. 
 
 To this they made him but little answer ; only they bid 
 him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every 
 man in his way, without much conference one with another ; 
 save that these two men told Christian, That, as to Laws and 
 Ordinances, they doubted not but they should as conscien- 
 
 D 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 tiously 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 tro, given thee by some of thy 
 Neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. 
 
 CHR. By Laws and Ordinances, you will not be saved, 
 since you came not in by the door. And as for this Coat 
 that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the place 
 Christian has w r hither I go ; and that, as you say, to cover 
 n Us * mv nakedness with. And I take it as a token 
 
 back, and is o f ^jg kindness to me, for I had nothing but 
 
 comforted . ' 
 
 thereivith. rags before. And besides, thus I comfort myself 
 
 as I go : Surely, think I, when I come to the Gate of the 
 City, the Lord thereof will know me for good, since I have 
 He is comforted his Coat on my back ; a Coat that he gave me 
 
 a MarandMs freely in the da 7 that he stri P l me of m J ra S ' 
 Ro11 ' I have moreover a mark in my forehead, of 
 
 which perhaps you have taken no notice, which one of my 
 Lords most intimate Associates, fixed there in the day that 
 my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you moreover, 
 that I had then given me a Roll sealed to comfort me by 
 reading, as I go in the way ; I was also bid to give it in at 
 the Ccelestial 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. 
 
 J 
 
 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 Christum kept before, who had 
 
 Christian has . , , . , , * 
 
 talk u-ith him- no more talk but with himself, and that some- 
 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 
 
 ne come* to the foot ot * tne Hil1 Difficulty, at the bottom of 
 hill Difficulty. which was a Spring. There was also in the 
 
THE HILL DIFFICULTY 53 
 
 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, and then began 
 to go up the Hill ; saying, 
 
 This Hill 9 though high, I covet to ascend ; 
 
 The difficulty will not me offend; 
 
 For I perceive the way to life lies here ; 
 
 Come, pluck up, Heart ; lets neither faint nor fear : 
 
 Better, tho" 1 difficult, th 1 right way to go, 
 
 Than wrong, though easy, where the end is wo. 
 
 The other two also came to the foot of the Hill. But 
 when they saw that the Hill was steep and high, and that 
 there was two other ways to go ; and supposing also, that 
 these two ways might meet again with that up which 
 Christian went, on the other side of the Hill ; therefore they 
 were resolved to go in those ways (now the name of one of 
 those ways was Danger, and the name of the other De- 
 struction.} So the one took the way which is 
 
 ' J The danger of 
 
 called Danger, which led him into a great Wood ; turning out of 
 and the other took directly up the way to 
 Destruction, which led him into a wide field full of dark 
 Mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more 1 . 
 I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the Hill, 
 where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from 
 going to clambering upon his hands and his knees, because 
 of the steepness of the place. Now about the ^ ward O f 
 midway to the top of the Hill, was a pleasant grace ' 
 
 1 Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end ? 
 Shall they at all have safety for their friend? 
 No, no, in headstrong manner they set out, 
 And headlong will they fall at last no doubt. 
 
54 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Arbor, made by ihe Lord of the Hill, for the refreshing of 
 weary Travellers. Thither therefore Christian got, where 
 also he sat down to rest him. Then he pulFd his Roll out 
 of his bosom and read therein to his comfort ; he also now 
 began afresh to take a review of the Coat or Garment that 
 was given him as he stood by the Cross. Thus pleasing 
 himself a while, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence 
 jie Uiat sleeps ni ^o a fast sleep, which detained him in that 
 place until it was almost night, and in his sleep 
 his Roll fell out of his hand. Now as he was sleeping, there 
 came one to him, and awaked him saying, Go to the Ant, 
 thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise. And with 
 that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his 
 way, and went apace till he came to the top of the Hill. 
 
 Now when he was got up to the top of the Hill, there 
 came two men running against him amain ; the name of the 
 
 one was Timorous, and the name of the other 
 Christian meets 
 
 n-tth Mistrust Mistrust, to whom Christian said, Sirs, what's 
 
 and Timorous. ,-, , i ~ rr,- 
 
 the matter you run the wrong way r 1 imorous 
 answered, That they were going to the City of Zion, and had 
 got up that difficult place ; but, said he, the further we go, 
 the more danger we meet with, wherefore we turned, and are 
 going back again. 
 
 Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of Lions 
 in the way, (whether sleeping or waking we know not) ; and 
 we could not think, if we came within reach, but they would 
 presently pull us to pieces. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, but 
 whither shall I fly to be safe ? If I go back to mine own 
 Country, That is prepared for Eire and Brimstone ; and I 
 shall certainly perish there. If I can get to the Crelestial 
 Christian City, I am sure to be in safety there. I must 
 
 venture. To go back is nothing but death ; to 
 go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it. 
 
CHRISTIAN MISSES HIS ROLL 55 
 
 I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down 
 the Hill ; and Christian went on his way. But thinking 
 again of what he heard from the men, he felt in his bosom 
 for his Roll, that he might read therein and be comforted ; 
 but he felt and found it not. Then was Christian Christian 
 in great distress, and knew not what to do, for ^^^ 
 he wanted that which used to relieve him, and to take Com fort. 
 that which should have been his Pass into the Ccelestial 
 City. Here therefore he began to be much He is perplexed 
 perplexed, and knew not what to do; at kst f rhis Rott - 
 he bethought himself that he had slept in the Arbor that is 
 on the side of the Hill : and falling down upon his knees, 
 he asked God forgiveness for that his foolish Fact ; and then 
 went back to look for his Roll. But all the way he went 
 back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christians 
 heart ? scrutinies he sighed, somtimes he wept, and often times 
 he chid himself, for being so foolish to fall asleep in that 
 place which was erected only for a little refreshment from 
 his weariness. Thus therefore he went back ; carefully look- 
 ing on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if 
 happily he might find his Roll, that had been his comfort 
 so many times in his Journey. He went thus till he came 
 again within sight of the Arbor, where he sat and slept; but 
 that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by 
 
 J Christian bc- 
 
 bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping wails his foolish 
 into his mind. Thus therefore he now went on 
 bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, O wretched Man that I avi, 
 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 spirits 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 Red-Sea.) and I am made to tread those steps with 
 
56 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not 
 bc-en 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. 
 
 that I had not slept ! Now by this time he was come to 
 the Arbor again, where for awhile he sat down and wept, 
 but at last (as Christian would have it) looking sorrowfully 
 Christian find- down under the Settle, there he espied his Roll; 
 cth his Roil the which he with trembling and haste catch'd 
 
 where he lost it. . 
 
 up, and put it into his bosom. But who can 
 
 tell how joyful this Man was, when he had gotten his Roll 
 again ! For this Roll was the assurance of his life and 
 acceptance at the desired Haven. Therefore he laid it up 
 in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to 
 the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself 
 again to his Journey. But 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: Oh thou sinful sleep! 
 how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my Journey 
 
 1 must walk without the Sun, darkness must cover the path of 
 mu feet, and I must hear the noise of doleful Creatures, because 
 of my sinful sleep ! Now also he remembered the story that 
 Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were 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 
 M as a very stately Palace before him, the name of which was 
 Beautiful, and it stood just by the Highway side. 
 
THE LIONS IN THE WAY 
 
 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 
 
 CHRISTIAN PASSES THE LIONS IN THE WAY. 
 
 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 M'wtntfit and Timorous were driven back 
 by. (The Lions were chained, but he saw not the Chains.) 
 Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back 
 
58 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 afcer 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 ? fear 
 not the Lions, for they are chained : and are placed there 
 for trial of faith where it is ; and for discovery of those that 
 have none : keep in the midst of the Path, and no hurt 
 shall come unto thee. 
 
 Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the 
 Lions ; but taking good heed to the directions of the Porter ; 
 he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he 
 
 / 
 
 clapt his hands, and went on, till he came and stood before 
 the Gate where the Porter was 1 . Then said Christian to 
 the Porter, Sir, What house is this ? and may I lodge here 
 to night ? The Porter answered, This House was built by 
 the Lord of the Hill, and he built it for the relief and 
 security of Pilgrims. The Porter also asked whence he was, 
 and whither he was going ? 
 
 CHR. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am 
 going to Mount Zion, but because the Sun is now set, I 
 desire, if I may, to lod^e here to niffht. 
 
 / ' O O 
 
 POR. What Is your name ? 
 
 CHR. My name is now Christian ; but my name at the 
 first was Graceless : I came of the race of Japliet, whom God 
 will perswade to dwell in the Tents of Shem. 
 
 POR. But how doth it happen that yon come so late ? the Sun 
 Is set. 
 
 CHR. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that 
 I am ! I slept in the Arbor that stands on the Hill side ; nay, 
 I had notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that 
 in my sleep I lost my evidence, and came without it to the 
 
 Difficult 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, v i 
 
THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL 59 
 
 brow of the Hill ; and then feeling for it, and finding it not, 
 I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to the place 
 where I slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I am come. 
 
 POR. Well, I will call out one of the Virgins of this place, 
 who will, if she 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 
 Discretion, and asked why she was called. 
 
 The Porte?' answered, This Man is in a Journey from the 
 City o'f 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 tonight, because, by what I 
 perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the Hill, for the 
 relief and security of Pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water 
 stood in her eyes : and after a little pause, she said, I will call 
 forth two or three more of the Family. So she ran to the 
 door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who after a 
 little more discourse with him, had him in to 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 set down, they 
 gave him something to drink ; and consented together that 
 until supper was ready, some of them should have some 
 
 D3 
 
60 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement 
 of time : and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity, 
 to discourse with him ; and thus they began. 
 
 Piety dis- I' 1 - Come good Christian, since ice hare been 
 
 so loving to you, to receive you into our House 
 tins night ; let ?/,?, 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. 
 
 Pi. What moved you at Jirst to betake yourself to a Pil- 
 grims life ? 
 
 HOW Christian CHU. I was driven out of my Native Country, 
 o/lf/oS? Ui b J a Dreadful sound that was in mine ears, to 
 Country. AV it, That unavoidable destruction did attend 
 
 me, if I abode in that place where I was. 
 
 Pi. But how did it happen that you came out of your 
 Country this way ? 
 
 CHK. It was as God would have it, for when I was under 
 
 the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go ; but 
 
 by chance there came a man, even to me, (as I was trembling 
 
 and weeping) whose name is Evangelist, and he 
 
 How he fiat into L . 
 
 the Waij to directed me to the Wicket-Gate, which else I 
 should never have found ; and so set me into the 
 way that hath led me directly to this House. 
 
 Pi. But did you not come by the House of the Interpreter ? 
 
 CHK. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance 
 of which will stick by me as long as I live ; specially three 
 things, to wit, /How Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his 
 
 A rehearsal of ^ vor ^ f Grace in the heart ; how the Man had 
 what lie saw in sinned himself quite out of hopes of Gods 
 mercy ; and also the Dream of him that thought 
 in his sleep the day of Judgment was come. 
 
DISCOURSE WITH PIETY 61 
 
 Pi. Why ? Did you hear him tell his Dream ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made my 
 heart ake as he was telling of it ; but yet I am glad I heard it. 
 
 Pi. Wax that all that you saw at the House of the Interpreter? 
 
 CHR. No, he took me and had me where he shewed 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 Mans house a twelvemonth, 
 but that I knew I had further to go. 
 
 Pi. A nd wliat saw you else in the way ? 
 
 CHR. 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 fall off my back 
 (for I groaned under a heavy burden) but then it fell down 
 from off me. 'Twas a strange thing to me, for I never saw 
 such a thing before : yea, and while I stood looking up, (for 
 then I could not forbear looking) three shining ones came to 
 me : one of them testified that my sins were forgiven me ; 
 another stript me of my rags, and gave me this broidered 
 Coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which you 
 see, in my forehead, and gave me this sealed Roll (and with 
 that he plucked it out of his bosom). 
 
 Pi. But you saw more than this, did you not ? 
 
 CHR. The things that I have told you were the best : yet 
 some other matters I saw, as namely I saw three Men, Simple, 
 Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a little out of the way as 
 I came, with Irons upon their heels ; but do you think I could 
 awake them ? I also saw Formalist and Hypocrisy come 
 tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Sion, 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 
 
62 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 to get up this Hill, and as hard to come by the Lions mouth ; 
 and truly if it had not been for the good Man, the Porter 
 that stands at the Gate, I do not know but that, after all, 
 I might have gone back again : but now I thank God I am 
 here, and I thank you for receiving of me.^ 
 Prudence dis- Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few 
 
 questions, and desired his answer to them. 
 PR i*. Do you not think sometimes of the Country from 
 whence you come ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, but with much shame and detesta- 
 
 tiumghts of his tion ; Truly, if I had been mindful of that 
 
 Native Country. ' . 
 
 Country jrom whence 1 came out, 1 might have 
 liad opportunity to have returned, but now I desire a better 
 Country, that is, an Heavenly. 
 
 Pur. 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 
 Christian dis- and carnal cogitations; with which all my 
 SS"'S ta - Country-men, as well as myself, were delighted ; 
 tions - but now all those things are my grief: and 
 
 might I but chuse mine own things, I would^chust^ never to 
 Christians think of those things more ; but u hen I would 
 
 be doing of that which is best, that which is 
 worst is with me. 
 
 PRU. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things ice re 
 vanquished., which at other times are your perplexity ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, but that is but seldom ; but they are to me 
 Christians golden hours, in which such things happen 
 
 golden hours. ^ Q me 
 
 PRU. Can you remember Inj what means you find your 
 annoyances at times, as if they were vanquished ? 
 HOW Christian CHU. Yes, when I think what I saw at the 
 
 Wto*** Cr SS ' that Wil1 d Jt ; alld Who11 l lt)()k U P" 
 
 corruptions. in y broidered Coat, that will do it ; also when 
 
DISCOURSE WITH CHARITY 63 
 
 I look into the Roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do 
 it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am 
 going, that will do it. 
 
 PRU. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to 
 Mount Zion ? 
 
 CHR. Why, there I hope to see him alive, that did hang 
 dead on the Cross ; and there I hope to be rid 
 
 117f y Christian 
 
 of all those things, that to this day are in vxuid be at 
 
 i ,1 ,1 Mount Zion. 
 
 me an annoyance to me ; there they say there 
 is no death, and there I shall dwell with such Company as 
 I like best. For to tell you truth, I love him, because I was 
 by him eased of my burden, and I am weary of my inward 
 sickness ; I would fain be where I shall die no more, and with 
 the Company that shall continually cry, Holy. Holy, Holy. 
 
 Then said Charity to Christian, Have you cjiariti/ dis- 
 a family ? are you a married man ? 
 
 CHR. I have a Wife and four small Children. 
 
 CHA. And why did you not biing them along with you ? 
 
 CHR. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh how Christians lore 
 willingly would I have done it, but they were to his Wife and 
 
 " Cliildren. 
 
 all of them utterly averse to my going on 
 Pilgrimage. 
 
 CHA. But you should have talked to them, and have en- 
 deavoured to have shewen them the danger of being behind. 
 
 CHR. So I did, and told them also what God had shewed 
 to me of the destruction of our City ; but I seemed to them 
 as one that mocked, and they believed me not. 
 
 CHA. And did you pray to God that he would bless your 
 counsel to them ? 
 
 CHR. Yes, and that with much affection ; for you must 
 think that my Wife and poor Children were very dear unto me. 
 
 CHA. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of 
 destruction ? for I suppose that destruction was visible enough 
 to you ? 
 
64 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Christians ^HR. ^ e *> over J an( ^ over > anc ^ over - They 
 
 fears of perish- might also see my fears in my countenance, in 
 
 ing might be , , . 'IT 11 
 
 read in Ms very my tears, and also in my trembling under the 
 
 apprehension of the Judgment that did hang 
 over our heads ; but all was not sufficient to prevail with 
 them to come with me. 
 
 CHA. But what could they say for themselves why they 
 came not ? 
 
 The cause lohy CHR. Why, my Wife was afraid of losing this 
 
 Ohildr^dM World; and my Children were given to the 
 not go with Mm. foolish delights of youth : so what by one 
 thing, and what by another, they left me to wander in this 
 manner alone. 
 
 CHA. But did you not with your vain life, damp all that you by 
 words used by way ofperswasion to bring them away with you ? 
 
 CHR. Indeed I cannot commend my life ; for I am con- 
 scious to myself of many failirigs : therein, I know also that 
 a man by his conversation, may soon overthrow what by 
 argument or perswasion he doth labour to fasten upon others 
 for their good : Yet, this I can say, I was very wary of 
 Christians " gi" vm g them occasion, by any unseemly action, 
 
 good conversa- ^ o ma ke them averse to o-oino; on Pilgrimage. 
 
 tion before his 
 
 wife and \ ea, tor this very thing;, they would tell me 
 
 f~n "7^7 
 
 I was too precise, and that I denied myself of 
 sins (for their sakes) in which they saw no evil. Nay, 
 I think I may say, that, if what they saw in me did hinder 
 them, it was my great tenderness in sinning against God. 
 or of doing any wrong to my Neighbor. 
 Christian dear CHA. Indeed; C&\\\ hated his Brother, because 
 
 of their blood //f v ore 1 ;?, works were eml, and his Brothers 
 
 righteous ; and if thy Wife and Children have 
 
 been offended with thee for this, they thereby .shew themselves 
 
 to be implacable to good; and thou hast delivered thy soul 
 
 from their blood. 
 
THE SUPPER 65 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that thus they sat, talking to- 
 gether until supper was ready. So when they had made 
 ready, they sat down to meat : Now the Table 
 
 J , J . What Clins- 
 
 was furnished with fat things, and with Wine tianhadtohi* 
 that was well refined ; and all their talk at the 
 Table, was about the LORD of the Hill : As Their ta i k at 
 namely, about what HE had done, and where- 8u w er tlme ' 
 fore HE did what HE did, and why HE had builded that 
 House : and by what they said, I perceived that HE had 
 been a great Warrior, and had fought with and slain him 
 that had the power of Death, but not without great danger 
 to himself, which made me love him the more. 
 
 For, as they said, and as I believe (said Christian) he did 
 it with the loss of much blood ; but that which put Glory of 
 Grace into all he did, was, that he did it of pure love to his 
 Country. And besides, there were some of them of the 
 Household that said they had seen and spoke with him since 
 he did die on the Cross ; and they have attested, that they 
 had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor 
 Pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the East to 
 the West. 
 
 They moreover gave an instance of what they affirmed, 
 and that was, He had stript himself of his glory that he 
 might do this for the Poor ; and that they heard him say 
 and affirm, That he would not dwell in the Mountain of 
 Zion alone. They said moreover, That he had made many 
 Pilgrims Princes, though by nature they were ^..^ makes 
 Beggars born, and their original had been the Princes of 
 DuTghil. 
 
 Thus they discoursed together till late at night, and after 
 they had committed themselves to their Lord for Protection, 
 they betook themselves to rest. The Pilgrim they laid in 
 a large upper Chamber, whose window opened Christians 
 towards the Sunrising ; the name of the Bed-chamber, 
 
66 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Chamber was Peace, where he slept till break of day ; and 
 then he awoke and sang, 
 
 Where am I noiv ! is this the love and care 
 Of Jesus for the men that Pilgrims are ! 
 Thus to provide ! That I should be forgiven ! 
 And dwell already the next door to Heaven ! 
 
 So in the Morning they all got up, and after some more 
 discourse, they told him that he should not depart, till they 
 had shewed him the Rarities of that place. And first they 
 had him into the Study, where they shewed him Records of 
 Christian had the greatest Antiquity ; in which, as I remember 
 1 "' m > T Dream > the J shewed him first the Pedigree 
 
 what he 
 
 there. of the Lord of the Hill, that he was the Son 
 
 of the Ancient of Days, and came by an eternal Generation. 
 Here also was more fully recorded the Acts that he had done, 
 and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his 
 service ; and how he had placed them in such Habitations 
 that could neither by length of Days, nor decays of Nature, 
 be dissolved. 
 
 Then they read to him some of the worthy Acts that 
 some of his Servants had done. As how they had sub- 
 
 ' dued Kingdoms, wrought Righteousness, obtained Promises, 
 stopped the mouths of Lions, quenched the violence of Fire, 
 escaped the edge of the Sword ; out of weakness were made 
 strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the 
 
 I Armies of the. Aliens. 
 
 Then they read again in another part of the Records of 
 the House, where it was shewed how willing their Lord was 
 to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time 
 past had offered great affronts to his Person and proceedings. 
 Here also were several other Histories of many other famous 
 
 V 
 
 things, of all which Christian had a view. As of things both 
 .Ancient and Modern ; together with Prophecies and Pre- 
 dictions of things that have their certain accomplishment, 
 
CHRISTIAN SHOWN THE RARITIES 67 
 
 both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the com- 
 fort and solace of Pilgrims. 
 
 The next day they took him and had him into the Ar- 
 mory ; where they shewed him all manner of 
 
 Furniture, which their Lord had provided for ^ad into the 
 Pilgrims, as Sword, Shield, Helmet, Breast plate, 
 All Prayer, and Shoes that would not wear out. And there was 
 here enough of this to harness out as many men for the service 
 of their Lord, as there be Stars in the Heaven for multitude. 
 They also shewed him some of the Engines with which 
 some of his Servants had done wonderful things. 
 
 Christian is 
 
 They shewed him Moses's Rod, the Hammer made to see ^ 
 and Nail with which Joel slew Sisera, the 
 Pitchers, Trumpets, and Lamps too, with which Gideon put 
 to flight the Armies of Midian. Then they shewed him the 
 Ox's goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They 
 shewed him also the Jaw bone with which Samson did such 
 mighty feats ; they shewed him moreover the Sling and Stone 
 with which David slew GoliaJi 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 shewed him besides 
 many excellent things, with which Christian was much de- 
 lighted. This done, they went to their rest again. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that on the morrow he got up 
 to go forwards, but they desired him to stay till the next 
 day also, and then said they, we will, (if the day be clear,) 
 shew you the delectable Mountains, which they Christian 
 said, would yet further add to his comfort, Chewed the de- 
 
 J lectable Moun- 
 
 because they were nearer the desired Haven tains. 
 than the place where at present he was. So he consented 
 and staid. When the Morning was up they had him to 
 the top of the House, and bid him look South, so he 
 did ; and behold at a great distance he saw a most 
 pleasant Mountainous Country, beautified with Woods, Vine- 
 
68 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 yards, Fruits of all sorts ; Flowers also, with Springs and 
 Fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the 
 name of the Country, "they said it was Immanuels 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 Cosiest ial City, as 
 the Shepherds that live there will make appear. 
 
 Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and they 
 Christian sets were willing he should : but first, said they, let 
 us go again into the Armory. So they did ; 
 Christian sent and when he came there, they harnessed him 
 away Armed. f rO m head to foot with what was of proof, lest 
 perhaps 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 tjie Porter answered, Yes. 
 
 CHR. Pray did you know him ? said he. 
 
 POR. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful. 
 
 CHR. O, said Christian, I know him, he is my Townsman, 
 my near Neighbor, he comes from the place where I was 
 born : how far do you think he may be before ? 
 
 POR. He is got by this time below the Hill. 
 HOIV Christian C H R. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the 
 
 and the Porter ' ' . 
 
 yreet at parting. Lord be with thee, and add to all thy blessings 
 much increase, for the kindness that thou hast shewed to me. 
 Then he began to go forward, but Discretion, Piety, Charity, 
 and Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot of the 
 Hill. So they went on together, reiterating their former 
 discourses till they came to go down the Hill. Then said 
 Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so (so far as I can 
 see) it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it 
 
 The valley of is ; for it is an hard matter for a man to go 
 Humiliation: down int() the vfljley of Humn'mtion, as thou art 
 
 now, and to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, said they, are 
 
THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION 69 
 
 we come out to accompany thee down the Hill. So he began 
 to go down, but very warily, yet he caught a slip or too l . 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that these good Companions, 
 (when Christian was gone down to the bottom of the Hill,) 
 gave him a loaf of Bread, a bottle of Wine, and a cluster of 
 Raisins ; and then he went on his way. 
 
 But now in this Valley of Humiliation poor Christian was 
 hard put to it, for he had gone but a little way before he 
 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 
 
 o Christian no 
 
 no Armor for his back, and therefore thought Armor for his 
 that to turn the back to him might give him 
 greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his Darts ; 
 therefore he resolved to venture, and stand his Christians re- 
 ground. For thought he, had I no more in ^Zhlf" 
 mine eye than the saving of my life, "'twould be Apollyon. 
 the best way to stand. 
 
 So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the Monster 
 was hideous to behold, he was cloathed with scales like a Fish 
 (and they are his pride) he had Wings like a Dragon, feet 
 like a Bear, and out of his belly came Fire and Smoke, and 
 his mouth was as the mouth of a Lion. When he was come 
 up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, 
 and thus began to question with him. 
 
 APOL. Whence come yon^ and whither are yon bound ? 
 
 CHR. I am come from the City of Destrnc- Discourse le- 
 
 i i ,i , n, ,-r- .-. T . twixt Christian 
 
 tion, which is the place 01 all evil, and am going and Apollyon. 
 
 to the City of Zion. 
 
 1 Whilst Christian is among his godly friends, 
 Their golden mouths make him sufficient 'mends, 
 For all his griefs, and when they let him go, 
 He's clad with northern steel from top to toe. 
 
70 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 APOL. By this I perceive than art one of my Subjects, for 
 aU that Country is mine ; and I am the Prince and God of it. 
 How is it then that thou hast ran away from thy King? Were 
 it not that I hope thou may eat do me more service, I would 
 strike thee now at one blow to the ground. 
 
 CHR. I was born indeed in your Dominions, but your 
 service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not 
 live on, for the wages of Sin is death; therefore \vhen I was 
 come to years, I did as other considerate persons do, look out 
 if perhaps I might mend my self. 
 
 APOL. There is no Prince that will thus lightly lose his 
 Subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee. But since thou com- 
 Apoiiyons plainest of thy service and wages be content to 
 
 flattery. g back ; what our Country will afford, I do here 
 
 promise to give thee. 
 
 CHR. But I have let myself to another, even to the King 
 of Princes, and how can I with fairness go back with thee ? 
 
 APOL. Thou hast done in this, according to the Proverb, 
 changed a bad for a worse : but it is ordinary 
 
 Apollyon un- 7 7 /> 7 7 7 7 o ' 
 
 for those that have processed themselves his ber- 
 
 Christ* s service. />, 7 - 7 7 .7 ? 7 
 
 vants, after a while to give him the slip, and 
 
 return again to me : do thou so to, and all shall be well. 
 
 CHR. I have given him my faith, and sworn my Allegiance 
 to him ; how then can I go back from this, and not be hanged 
 as a Traitor ? 
 
 APOL. Thou didst the same to me, and yet 
 
 Apollyon pre- 
 
 tends to be I am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet 
 
 merciful. . 777 
 
 turn again, and go back. 
 
 CHR. What I promised thee was in my nonage^ and 
 besides, I count that 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 
 
DISCOURSE WITH APOLLYON 71 
 
 Country better than thine : and therefore leave off to per- 
 swade 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 wan that thou Apoiiyon 
 
 mi n pleads the 
 
 goest. Thou knowest thatjor the most part, his grievous 
 Servants come to an ill end, because they are ^ 
 
 transgressors against me, and mil wans. How Christian from 
 /.., 7 T , , 7 / 7 7 ,; , persisting in his 
 
 many oj them have been put to shameful deaths! 
 
 and besides, thou countest his service better than mine, whereas 
 he never came yet from the place where he is, to deliver ant/ 
 that served him out of our hands; but as for me, how many 
 times, as all the World very well knows, have I delivered, 
 either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served 
 me, from him and his, though taken by them, and so I will 
 deliver thee. 
 
 CHR. His forbearing at present to deliver them, is on 
 purpose to try their love, whether they will cleave to him 
 to th? 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 
 
 j * *> 
 
 comes in his, and the Glory of the Angels. 
 
 APOL. Thou hast already been unfaithful In thy service to 
 him, and how doest thou think to receive wages of him ? 
 
 CHR. Wherein, O Apoiiyon, have I been unfaithful to him ? 
 
 APOL. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast 
 almost choked In the Gulf of Dlspond ; thou 
 didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy 
 burden, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till ties against him. 
 thy Prince had taken It off : thou didst sinfully sleep and lose 
 thy choice thing: thou wast also almost persivaded 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. 
 
72 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. 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 suckt them in, and I have 
 groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained 
 pardon of my Prince. 
 
 APOL. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, 
 saying, / am an Enemy to this Prince: I hate 
 
 Apollyon in a J 
 
 rage fails upon Ms Person, his Laws, and People: I am come 
 out on purpose to withstand thee. 
 
 CHR. Apollyon beware what you do, for I am in the King's 
 Highway, the way of Holiness, therefore take heed to your 
 self. 
 
 APOL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole 
 breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this 
 matter, prepare thy self 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 'twas time to bestir him ; and Apollyon as 
 fast made at him, throwing Darts as thick as Hail ; by the 
 
 O *> 
 
 which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid 
 
 it, Anolliion wounded him in his head, his hand 
 Christian ? J. J 
 
 wounded in his and foot ; this made Christian give a little 
 faith and S back : Apollyon therefore followed his work 
 amain, and Christian again took courage, and 
 resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted 
 for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite 
 spent. For you must know that Christian by reason of his 
 wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. 
 
 o 
 
 cast- Then Apollyon espying his opportunity, be- 
 M? 8 a to gather up close _ to Christian, and 
 
 tian - wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall ; 
 
THE FLIGHT OF APOLLYQN. 
 
VICTORY OVER APOLLYON 75 
 
 and with that, Christianas Sword flew out of his hand. 
 Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now ; and with that, 
 he had almost prest him to death, so that Christian began to 
 despair of life. 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 reached out his hand for his 
 Sword, and caught it, saying, Rejoice not j 
 
 & J o t/ Christians f 
 
 against me, mine Enemy ! when I fall, I shall victory over 
 arise ; and with that, gave him a deadly thrust, 
 which made him give back, as one that had received his 
 mortal Avound : Christian perceiving that, made at him again, 
 saying, Nay, in all these things ice are more than Conquerors, 
 through him that loved us. And with that, Apollyon spread 
 forth his Dragon's Avings, and sped him away, that Christian 
 saAv him no more a . 
 
 In this Combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen 
 and heard as I did, Avhat yelling, and hideous 
 
 7 , ,, . -4 brief relation 
 
 roaring A pollyo?i made all the time of the fight, of the Combat 
 he spake like a Dragon : and on the other side, 
 Avhat sighs and groans brast from Christianas heart. I never 
 saAv him all the Avhile give so much as one pleasant look, 
 till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon Avith his tAvo 
 edged Sword, then indeed he did smile, and look upward : 
 but "'twas the dreadfullest sight that ever I saAv. 
 
 So when the Battle Avas over, Christian said, I Avill here 
 give thanks to him that hath delivered me out 
 
 Christian gives 
 
 of the mouth of the Lion ; to him that did help God thanks for 
 M , -,. f . deliverance. 
 
 me against Apollyon : and so he did, saying, 
 
 Great Beelzebub, the Captain of this Fiend, 
 Design d my ruin ; therefore to this end 
 
 1 A more unequal match can hardly be, 
 Christian must fight an Angel ; but you see 
 The valiant man by handling Sword and Shield, 
 Doth make him, tho' a Dragon, quit the Field. 
 
76 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 He sent him harnest 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 mcike him fly : 
 Therefore to him let me give lasting praise, 
 And thank and bless his holy name always. 
 
 Then there came to him an hand, with some of the leaves 
 of the Tree of Life, the which Christian took, and applied to 
 the wounds that he had received in the Battle, and was 
 healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to eat 
 
 mf 
 
 Bread, and to driiik of the Bottle that was given him a little 
 
 before ; so being refreshed, he addressed himself to his 
 
 Journey, with his Sword drawn in his hand, for 
 
 Christian yues -' ' 
 
 on his Journey he said, I know not but some other Enemy may 
 cimn-n in his be at hand. But he met with no other affront 
 
 from Apollyon, quite through thisJValley. 
 Now at the end of this Valley, was another, called the 
 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, and Christian 
 
 'Hie Valley of > J , 
 
 the shadow of must needs go through it, because the way to 
 
 T) tl 
 
 the Ccelestial City lay through the midst of it. 
 Now this Valley is a very solitary place. The Prophet 
 Jeremiah thus describes it, A Wilderness, a Land qfDesarts, 
 (nid of Pits, a Land of Drought, and of the shadow of death, 
 a Land thai no man (but a Christian) passeth through, and 
 where no man dwelt. 
 
 Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight 
 with Apollyon, as by the sequel you shall see. 
 
 I saw then in my Dream, that when Christian was got to 
 
 the Borders of the Shadow of Death, there met him two 
 
 Men, Children of them that brought up an evil 
 
 The Children of , 
 
 the Spies go report ot the good Land, making haste to 
 
 go back : to whom Christian spake as follows, 
 Cmi. Whither are you going? 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 77 
 
 MEN. They said, Back, back ; and we would have you to 
 do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. 
 
 CHR. Why ? what's the matter ? said Christian. 
 
 MEN. Matter ! said they ; we were going that way as you 
 are going, and went as far as we durst ; and indeed we were 
 almost past coming back, for had we gone a little further, 
 we had not been here to bring the news to thee. 
 
 CHR. But what have you met with, said Christian ? 
 
 MEN. Why we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death, but that by good hap we looked before us, and saw 
 the danger before we came to it. 
 
 CHR. But what have you seen, said Christian ? 
 
 MEN. Seen ! why the Valley itself, which is as dark a.s 
 pitch ; we also saw there the Hobgoblins, Satyrs, and 
 Dragons of the Pit : we heard also in that Valley a con- 
 tinual 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. 
 
 CHR, Then said Christian, / perceive not yet, by what you 
 have mid, but that this is my way to the desired Haven. 
 
 MEN. Be it thy way, we will not chuse it for ours. So they 
 parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his Sword 
 drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted. 
 
 I saw then in my Dream, so far as this Valley reached, 
 there was on the right hand a very deep Ditch ; that Ditch 
 is it into which the blind have led the blind in all Ages, 
 and have both there miserably perished. Again, behold on 
 the left hand, there was a very dangerous Quag, into which, 
 if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom for his foot 
 to stand on. Into that Quag King David once did fall, and 
 had no doubt therein been smothered, had not He that is 
 able, pluckt him out. 
 
78 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 The path-way was here also exceeding narrow, and there- 
 fore good Christian was the more put to it ; for when he 
 sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the one hand, he 
 was ready to tip over into the mire on the other ; also when 
 he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he 
 would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, 
 and I heard him here sigh bitterly : for besides the dangers 
 mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that oft- 
 times when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not 
 where, or upon what he should set it next. 
 
 About the midst of this Valley, I perceived the mouch of 
 Hell to be, and it stood also hard by the wayside 1 : 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 
 Christians Sword, as did Apollyon before) that he was 
 forced to put up his Sword, and betake himself to another 
 weapon called All-Prayer^ so he cried in my hearing, O Lord 
 I beseech thee deliver my Soul. Thus he went on a great 
 while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him : 
 also he heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that 
 sometimes he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden 
 down like mire in the Streets. This frightful sight was 
 seen, and these dreadful noises were heard by him for several 
 miles together : and coming to a place, where he thought 
 he heard a company of Fiends coming forward to meet him, 
 Christian put ^ e s tpt? an d began to muse what he had best 
 to a stand, but to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to 
 go back. Then again he thought he might be 
 half way through the Valley ; he remembred also how he had 
 
 V 
 
 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 
 Cheer~upT~Hol(l out, with thee it shall go well. 
 
 / 
 
E 
 
 E- 
 
 - 
 
 I 
 
 C 
 
 co 
 
 B 
 
 EC 
 
 u. 
 o 
 
 K 
 
 = 
 
CHRISTIAN IS MADE GLAD 81 
 
 already vanquished many a danger : and that the danger of 
 going back might be much more than for to go forward ; so 
 he resolved to go on. Yet the Fiends seemed to come nearer 
 and nearer ; but when they were come even almost at him, 
 he cried out with a most vehement voice, / 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, and 
 whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphe- Christian made 
 mies to him, which he verily thought had pro- believe that he 
 
 7 J spake blas- 
 
 ceeded from his own mind. This put Christian phemies, when 
 
 ., ,1 , i . ,-, -j .,! twas Satan that 
 
 more to it than any tiling that he met with suggested them 
 before, even to think that he should now bias- into Ms mind - 
 pheme him that he loved so much before ; yet could he have 
 helped it, he would not have done it : but he had not the 
 discretion neither to stop his ears, nor to know from whence 
 those blasphemies came. 
 
 When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition 
 some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a 
 man, as going before him, saying, Though I walk through 
 the 'valley of the shadow of death, I will fear none ill, for thou 
 art with me. 
 
 Then was he glad, and that for these reasons : 
 
 First, Because he gathered from thence that some who 
 feared God were in this Valley as well as himself. 
 
 Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though 
 in that dark and dismal state ; and why not, thought he, with 
 me ? though by reason of the impediment that attends this 
 place, I cannot perceive it. 
 
 Thirdly, For that he hoped (could he overtake them) to 
 
\ 
 
 82 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 have company by and by. So he went on, and called to him 
 that was before, but he knew not what to answer, for that he 
 Christian glad a l thought himself to be alone. And by and 
 atbreakofday. by, t h e jay broke : then said Christian, He hath 
 turned the shadow of death into the morning. 
 
 Now morning being come, he looked back, not 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 lay betwixt 
 them both ; also now he saw the Hobgoblins, and Satyrs, and 
 Dragons of the Pit, but all afar of; for after break of day, 
 they came not nigh ; yet they were discovered to him, accord- 
 ing to that which is written, He discovereth deep things out 
 of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death. 
 
 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 first 
 part of the Valley of the Shadow of death was dangerous, yet 
 The secondpart this ^econd part which he was yet to go, was, if 
 of this Valley possible, far more dangerous : for from the place 
 
 very dangerous, V 1 J J.T. J j? .LI 
 
 where he now stood, even to the end . or the 
 Valley, the way was all along set so full of Snares, Traps, 
 Gins, and Nets here, and so full of Pits, Pit-falls, deep Holes 
 and Shelvings down there, that had it now been dark, as it 
 was when he came the first part of the way, had he had 
 a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away ; but 
 as I said, just now the Sun was rising. Then said he, His 
 candle shineth on mi/ head, and bij hi\ ///// 7 go through 
 darkness. 
 
 In this light therefore he came to the end of the Valley. 
 
GIANTS POPE AND PAGAN 
 
 83 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that at the end of this Valley lay 
 blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of 
 Pilgrims that had gone this way formerly : And while I was 
 musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me 
 a Cave, where two Giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old time, 
 
 CHRISTIAN GOES UNHURT BY GIANT POPE. 
 
 by whose Power and Tyranny the Men whose bones, blood, 
 ashes, &c. lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this 
 place Christian went without much danger, whereat I some- 
 what wondered ; but I have learnt since, that Pagan has been 
 dead many a day ; and as for the other, though he be yet 
 alive, he is by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd 
 
 E 
 
84 THP; PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 Cavers 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, specially because he spake to him, though 
 he could not go after him ; saying, You will never mend, till 
 more of you be burned : but he held his peace, and set a good 
 face on't, and so went by, and catcht no hurt. Then sang 
 Christian, 
 
 O world of wonders ! (/ can say no less) 
 
 That I should be preserved in that distress 
 
 That 1 have met with here! O blessed be 
 
 That hand that from it hath delivered me ! 
 
 Dangers in darkness, Devils, Hell, and Sin, 
 
 Did compass me, while I this Vale was in : 
 
 Yea, Snares, and Pits, and Traps, and Nets did lie 
 
 My path about, that worthless silly I 
 
 Might have been catclit, intangled, 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 up on purpose that Pilgrims might see 
 before them : up there therefore Christian went, and looking 
 forward he saw Faithful before him, upon his Journey. Then 
 said Christian aloud, Ho, ho, So-ho ; stay and I will be your 
 Companion. At that Faithful looked behind him, to whom 
 Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up to you. But 
 Faithful answered, No, I am upon my life, and the Avenger 
 of Blood is behind me. At this Christian was somewhat 
 moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly got up 
 Christian over- with Faithful, and did also overrun him, so 
 takes Faithful. the /a ^ was first. Then did Christian vain- 
 
CHRISTIAN OVERTAKES FAITHFUL 85 
 
 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; and had sweet discourse of all things Christians fall 
 that had happened to them in their Pilgrimage ; ^ndhe^iov" 1 
 and thus Christian began. fogly together. 
 
 CHR. My honoured and well beloved Brother Faithful, / am 
 glad that I have overtaken you ,- and that God has so tempered 
 our spirits, that we can walk as Companions in this so pleasant 
 a path. 
 
 FAITH. I had thought dear friend, to have had your 
 company quite from our Town, but you did get the start 
 of me ; wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the 
 way alone. 
 
 CHR. How long did you stay in the City of Destruction, 
 before itou set out after me on riour Pilgrimage ? Their talk 
 
 J & u & PI about the 
 
 FAITH, lill I could stay no longer ; for there Country from 
 was great talk presently after you was gone out, ame. G 
 that our City would in short time with Fire from Heaven 
 be burned down to the ground. 
 
 CHR. What ! Did your Neighbors talk so ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, 'twas for a while in every body's mouth. 
 
 CHR. What, and did no more of them but you come out 
 to escape the danger? 
 
 FAITH. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, 
 yet I do not think they did firmly believe it. For in the heat 
 of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of 
 you, and of your desperate Journey, (for so they called this 
 your Pilgrimage) but I did believe, and do still, that the end 
 of our City will be with Fire and Brimstone from above : and 
 therefore I have made mine escape. 
 
 CHR. Did you hear no talk of Neighbor Pliable ? 
 
86 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 FAITH. Yes Christian, I heard that he followed you till 
 he came at the Slough ofDispond, where, as some said, he fell 
 in ; but he would not he known to have so done : but I am 
 sure he was soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt. 
 
 CHR. And what said the Neighbors to him ? 
 
 FAITH. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in 
 HOW Pliable derision, and that among all sorts of People : 
 was accounted some (J o mock and despise him. and scarce will 
 
 ofiuhen lie got 
 
 home. any set him on work. He is now seven times 
 
 worse than if he had never gone out of the City. 
 
 CHR. But why should they be so set against him, since they 
 also despise the way that he forsook ? 
 
 FAITH. O, they say, Hang him, he is a Turn-Coat, he was 
 not true to his profession. I think God has stirred up even 
 his Enemies to hiss at him, and make him a Proverb, because 
 he hath forsaken the way. 
 
 CHR. Had you no talk with him before you came out ? 
 
 FAITH. I met him once in the Streets, but he leered away on 
 the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done ; so I 
 spake not to him. 
 
 CHR. Well 9 at my first setting out, I had hopes of that 
 Man but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the 
 The Dog and City, f or ^ ** happened to him, according to the 
 the Sow. i rue p rover l) 9 The Dog is turned to his Vomit 
 
 again, and the Sow that was washed to her wallowing in the 
 mire. 
 
 FAITH. They are my fears of him too. But who can hinder 
 that which will be ? 
 
 CHR. Well Neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave 
 him ; and talk of things that more immediately concern 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 perceive you fell into. 
 
FAITHFUL AND WANTON 87 
 
 and got up to the Gate without that danger ; only I met 
 with one whose name was Wantoii, that had like 
 
 to have done me a mischief. assaulted by 
 
 CHR. ^ Twos 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. But what did she do to you ? 
 
 FAITH. You cannot think (but that you know something) 
 what a flattering tongue she had, she lay at me hard to turn 
 aside with her, promising me all manner of content. 
 
 CHR, Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good 
 conscience. 
 
 FAITH. You know what I mean, all carnal and fleshly 
 content. 
 
 CHR. Thanh God you have escaped her : The abhorred of 
 the Lord shall fall into her Ditch. 
 
 FAITH. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her, 
 or no. 
 
 CHR. Why, I tro you did not consent to her desires ? 
 
 FAITH. No, not to defile myself ; for I remembered an old 
 writing that I had seen, which saith, Her steps take hold of 
 hell. So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched 
 with her looks : then she railed on me, and I went my way. 
 
 CHR. Did you meet with no other assault as you came ? 
 
 FAITH. When I came to the foot of the Hill called 
 Difficulty, I met with a very aged Man, who m . g assanlted 
 asked me, What I was. and whither bound ? &?/ Adam the 
 
 first 
 
 I told him, That I was a Pilgrim, going to 
 the Ccelestial City. Then said the Old Man, Thou loosest 
 like an honest fellow ; Wilt thou be content to dwell with me, 
 for the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his 
 name, and where he dwelt ? He said his name was Adam 
 the Jirst, and I dwell in the Town of Deceit. 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 
 
88 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 his wages, that I should be his Heir at last. I further asked 
 him, What House he kept, and what other Servants he had ? 
 So he told me, That his House was maintained with all the 
 dainties in the world, and that his Servants were those of his 
 own begetting. Then I asked, if he had any children ? He 
 said that he had but three Daughters, The lust of the Jlesh, 
 the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life ; and that I should 
 marry them all, if I would. Then I asked, how long time 
 he would have me live with him ? And he told me As long 
 as he lived himself. 
 
 CHR. Well, and what conclusion came the Old Man and you 
 to, at last ? 
 
 FAITH. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable 
 to go with the Man, for I thought he spake very fair ; But 
 looking in his forehead as I talked with him, I saw there 
 written, Put off the old Man with his deeds. 
 
 CHR. And how then ? 
 
 FAITH. Then it came burning hot into my mind, 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 for- 
 bear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his 
 House. Then he reviled me, and told me that he would 
 send such a one after me, that should make my way bitter to 
 my Soul. So I turned to go away from him : but just as 
 I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my 
 flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought 
 he had pulPd part of me after himself. This made me cry, 
 O wretched Man! So I went on my way up the Hill. 
 
 Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind 
 me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind ; so he 
 overtook me just about the place where the Settle stands. 
 
 CHR. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to 7'est me ; 
 but, being overcome with sleep, I there lost this Roll out of my 
 bosom. 
 
THE TEMPER OF MOSES 89 
 
 FAITH. But good Brother hear me out : So soon .as the 
 Man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow : for down 
 he knockt 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 strook 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 knockt me down again. He had doubtless made 
 an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear. 
 
 CHR. Who was that, that bid him forbear ? 
 
 FAITH. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, 
 I perceived the holes in his hands, and his side ; then I 
 concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the 
 Hill. 
 
 CHR. That Man that overtook you, was Moses. He spareih \ 
 none., neither knozveth he how to shew mercy to The temper of 
 those that transgi'css his Law. Moses. 
 
 FAITH. I know it very well, it was not the first time that 
 he has met with me. 'Twas he that came to me when I 
 dwelt securely at home, and that told me, He would burn 
 my House over my head if I staid there. 
 
 CHR. But did not you see the House that stood there on the 
 top of that Hill, on the side of which Moses met you ? 
 
 FAITH. Yes, and the Lions too, before I came at it ; but 
 for the Lions, I think they were asleep, for it was about 
 Noon ; and because I had so much of the day before me, 
 I passed by the Porter, and came down the Hill. 
 
 CHR. He told me indeed that he saw you go by ; but I wish 
 you had called at the House ; for they would have shewed 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 ? 
 
90 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 FAITH. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would will- 
 ingly have pers waded me to go back again with 
 
 Faithful i i f ii ji 17-11 
 
 assaulted by him: his reason was, tor that the Valley was 
 altogether without Honour. He told me more- 
 over, 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. 
 
 CHK. 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, 
 
 Faithfuls -i-ii T^ j* 
 
 answer to Di*- (for indeed they were my Relations, according 
 to the flesh) yet since I became a Pilgrim, they 
 have disowned me, as I also have rejected them ; and there- 
 fore 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. There- 
 fore said I, I had rather go through this Valley to the 
 Honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than chuse that 
 which he esteemed most worth our affections. 
 CHK. Met you with nothing else in that Valley V 
 FAITH. Yes, I met with Shame. But of all the Men that 
 
 tie is assaulted l met with ln lu ? Mg"mage, he I think bears 
 with Shame. the wrong name : the other would be said nay, 
 after a little argumentation, (and somewhat else) but this 
 boldfaced Shame, would never have done. 
 
 CHR. Why, what did he say to you ? 
 
 FAITH. What ! why he objected against Religion itself; 
 lie 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 tye up himself from that hectoring liberty 
 
FAITHFUL AND SHAME 91 
 
 that the brave spirits of the times accustom themselves unto, 
 would make me the Ridicule of the times. He objected 
 also, that but few of the Mighty, Rich, or Wise, were ever 
 of my opinion ; nor any of them, neither, before they were 
 perswaded to be Fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to 
 venture the loss of all, for no body else 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. Yea, he did hold me to it at that 
 rate also about a great many more things than here I relate ; 
 as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under 
 a Sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home. 
 That it was a shame to ask my Neighbor forgiveness for 
 petty faults, or to make restitution where I had taken from 
 any. He said also that Religion made a man grow strange 
 to the great, because of a few vices (which he called by finer 
 names) and made him own and respect the base, because of 
 the same Religious Fraternity. And is not this, said he, 
 a shame ? 
 
 CHR. And what did you say to him ? 
 
 FAITH. Say ! I could not tell what to say at the first, 
 Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face, 
 even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite 
 off. But at last I began to consider, That that which is 
 highly esteemed among Men, is had in abomination with God. 
 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, is best, though all the Men in the world are against it. 
 Seeing then, that God prefers his Religion, seeing God 
 
 E3 
 
92 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 prefers a tender Conscience, seeing they that make them- 
 selves Fools for the Kingdom of Heaven are wisest ; and 
 that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than the 
 greatest Man in the world that hates him ; Shame depart, 
 thou art an Enemy to my Salvation : shall I entertain thee 
 against my Soveraign 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 blessing ? 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, Twas 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 that those men do meet withal, 
 
 That are obedient to the Heavenly call, 
 
 Are manifold, and suited to the Jlesh, 
 
 And come, and come, and come again afresh; 
 
 That now, or sometime else, ice by them may 
 
 Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
 
 O let the Pilgrims, let the Pilgrims then, 
 
 Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men. 
 
 CHK. / am glad, my Brother, that thou didst withstand this 
 Villain so bravely ; for of all, as thou sayst, I think he has the 
 wrong name : for he is so bold as to follow its in the Streets, 
 and to attempt to put us to shame before all men , that is, to 
 make us ashamed of that which is good : but if he was not 
 himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does, but 
 let us still resist him : for notwithstanding all his Bravadoes, 
 he promoteth the Fool, and none else. The A Vise shall Inherit 
 Glory said Solomon, but shame shall be the promotion of Fools. 
 
TALKATIVE OVERTAKEN 93 
 
 FAITH. I think we must cry to him for help against 
 shame, that would have us be valiant for Truth upon the 
 Earth. 
 
 CHK. You say true. But did you meet nobody else in that 
 Valley ? 
 
 FAITH. No, not I, for I had Sunshine all the rest of the 
 way, through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death. 
 
 CHR. ''Twas well for you, I am sure it fared far otherwise 
 with me. I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entred 
 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 crusht me under him, 
 as if he would have crusht 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 / cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered 
 me out of all my troubles. Then I entred into the Valley of 
 the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the 
 way through it. I thought I should have been killed there, over, 
 and over. But at last day brake, and the Sun rose, and I went 
 through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet. 
 
 Moreover, I saw in my Dream, that as they went on, 
 Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a Man whose 
 name is Talkative, walking at a distance besides them, (for 
 in this place, there was room enough for them all to walk). 
 He was a tall Man, and something more comely Talkative 
 at a distance than at hand. To this Man Faith- described - 
 ful addressed himself in this manner. 
 
 FAITH. Friend, Whither away? Are you going to the 
 Heavenly Country ? 
 
 TALK. I am going to that 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. 
 
I 
 
 94 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 FAITH. Come on then, and let us go together, and let us spend 
 
 Faithful and our fa ne \ n discoursing of tilings that are profit- 
 
 Talkative enter 
 discourse. able. 
 
 TALK. To talk of things that are good, to me is very 
 acceptable, with you, or with any other ; and I am glad that 
 I have met with those that incline to so good a work. For 
 to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend 
 
 their time (as they are in their travels), but 
 Talkatives dis- v / /* 
 
 like of bad dis- chuse 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 saying is full 
 of conviction ; and I will add, What thing so pleasant, and 
 what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God ? 
 
 What things so pleasant ? (that is, if a man hath any 
 delight in things that are wonderful) for instance, if a man 
 doth delight to talk of the History or 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. Thafs 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 
 Talkatives fine most profitable, for by so doing, a Man may 
 get knowledge of many things, as of the vanity 
 of earthly things, and the benefit of things above : (thus in 
 general) but more particularly, by this a man may learn the 
 necessity of the New-birth, the insufficiency of our works, the 
 need of Christs righteousness, etc. 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 com- 
 
TALKATIVES FINE DISCOURSE 95 
 
 fort. Further, by this a Man may learn to refute false opinions, 
 to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant. 
 
 FAITH. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things 
 from you. 
 
 TALK. Alas ! the want of this is the cause that so few 
 understand the need of Faith, and the necessity of a work 
 of Grace in their Soul, in order to eternal life ; but igno- 
 rantly live in the works of the Law, by which a man can by 
 no means obtain the Kingdom of Heaven. 
 
 FAITH. But by your leave. Heavenly knowledge of these, is L 
 the gift of God ; no man attaineth to them by human industry, I 
 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 ; brave Talk , 
 all is of Grace, not of works : I could give you ative - 
 an 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 : J will talk of things Heavenly, 
 or things Earthly ; things Moral, or things o brave Talk- 
 Evangelical ; things Sacred, or things Prophane ; 
 things past, or things to come ; things foreign, or things at 
 home ; things more Essential, or things Circumstantial ; 
 provided that all be done to our profit. 
 
 FAITH. Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and stepping 
 to Christian (for he walked all this while by 
 
 J Faithful be- 
 
 himself,) he said to him, (but softly) What a gulled by 
 Brave Companion have we got ! Surely this man 
 will make a very excellent Pilgrim. 
 
 CHR. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This 
 man with whom you are so taken, will beguile Christian 
 with this tonmie of his, twenty of them that makesadis- 
 
 J covery of TalJc- 
 
 knOW him not. ative, telling 
 
 FAITH. Do you know him then ? h 
 
96 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Know him ! Yes, better than he knows himself. 
 
 FAITH. Pray what is he ? 
 
 CHR. His name is Talkative, he dwelleth in our Town ; 
 i wonder that you should be a stranger to him, only I consider 
 that our Town is large. 
 
 FAITH. Whose son is he ? And whereabout doth he dwell ? 
 
 CHR. He is the son of one Saywell, he dwelt in Prating- 
 row ; and he is known of all that are acquainted with him, 
 by the name of Talkative in PratinQ-row : and notwith- 
 
 O 
 
 standing his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. 
 
 FAITH. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. 
 
 CHR. That is, to them that have not thorough acquain- 
 tance with him, for he is best abroad, near home he is ugly 
 enough : your saying, That he is a pretty man, brings to my 
 mind what I have observed in the work of the Painter, M T hose 
 Pictures shew best at a distance ; but very near, more un- 
 pleasing. 
 
 FAITH. But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you 
 smiled. 
 
 CHR. God forbid that I should jest, (though I smiled) in 
 this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely ; I will give 
 you a further discovery of him : This man is for any company, 
 and for any talk ; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk 
 when he is on the Ale-bench : and the more drink he hath in 
 his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth. 
 , Religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation ; 
 all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his Religion is to make 
 a noise therewith. 
 
 FAITH. Say you so ! Then am I in this man greatly deceived. 
 
 CHR. Deceived ! you may be sure of it. Remember the 
 
 Proverb, Then sail and do not but the Kingdom of God is not 
 
 in word, but in power. He talketh of Prayer, of 
 
 Tdlkativf 
 
 talks, but does Repentance, of Faith, and of the New Birth : 
 but he knows but only to talk of them. I have 
 
A STAIN TO RELIGION 97 
 
 been in his Family, and have observed him both at home and 
 abroad ; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His 
 house is as empty of Religion, as the white of Hig house is 
 
 an Egg is of savour. There is there neither empty of Re- 
 ^5- . c T3 f Hgion. 
 
 Frayer, nor sign ot Repentance tor sin : yea, 
 
 the brute in his kind serves God far better than he. He is 
 the very stain, reproach, and shame of Religion He is a stain 
 to all that know him ; it can hardly have a good to Keli o ion - 
 word in all that end of the Town where he dwells, through 
 him. Thus say the common People that know 
 
 J r Tlie Proverb 
 
 him, A Saint abroad* and a Devil at home. His that goes of 
 poor Family finds it so, he is such a churl, such 
 a railer at, and so unreasonable with his Servants, that they 
 neither know how to do for, or speak to him. Men that 
 have any dealings with him, say "'tis better to Men slum to 
 deal with a Turk then 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 timoronsness 
 (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience) he 
 calls them fools and blockhepvds ; and by no means will employ 
 them in much, or speak to their commendations before others. 
 For my part I am of opinion, that he has by his wicked life 
 caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if God prevent 
 not, the ruin of many more. 
 
 FAITH. Well, my Brother, I am bound to believe you not 
 only because you say you know him, but also because like 
 a Christian, you make your reports of men. For I cannot 
 think that you speak these things of ill will, but because it 
 is even so as you say. 
 
 CHR. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps 
 have thought of him as at the first you did. Yea, had he 
 received this report at their hands only that are enemies to 
 
98 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Religion, I should have thought it had been a slander : (a Lot 
 that often falls from bad mens mouths upon good mens Names 
 and Professions :) But all these things, yea and a great many 
 more as bad, of my own knowledge I can prove him guilty of. 
 Besides, good men are ashamed of him, they can neither call 
 him Brother nor Friend ; the very naming of him among 
 them, makes them blush, if they know him. 
 
 FAITH. Well, I see that Saying and Doing are two things, 
 \ and hereafter I shall better observe this distinction. 
 
 CHR. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are 
 the Soul and the Body : for as the Body without the Soul, is 
 The Carcass of but a dead Carcass ; so, Saying, if it be alone, 
 Religion. ig but ft dead Carcass also. The Soul of Religion 
 
 is the practick part : Pure Religion and undejiled, before God 
 and the Father, is this, To visit the Fatherless and Widows in 
 their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the World. 
 This Talkative is hot 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. 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 any thing can 
 be accepted that is not of Faith ; but I speak this to show 
 you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at 
 that day. 
 
 FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he 
 Faithful con- describeth the beast that is clean. He is such 
 ladwsfof 16 an one that parteth the Hoof, and cheweth th 
 Talkative, Cud : not that parteth the Hoof only, or that 
 
 cheweth the Cud only. The Hare cheweth the Cud, but yet i 
 
THINGS WITHOUT LIFE THAT SOUND 99 
 
 unclean, because he parteth not the Hoof. And this truly 
 resembleth Talkative ; he cheweth the Cud, he seeketh know- 
 ledge, he cheweth upon the Word, but he divideth not the Hoof, 
 he parteth not with the way of sinners ; but as the Hare, retain- 
 eth the foot of a Dog, or Bear, and therefore he is unclean. 
 
 CHR. You have spoken, for ought I know, the true Gospel 
 sense of those Texts, and I will add another thing. Paul 
 calleth some men, yea and those great Talkers too, sounding 
 Brass, and Tinkling Cymbals ; that is, as he Talkative nice 
 expounds them in another place, Things without 
 life, giving sound. Things without life, that 
 is, ^without tVip t.rnft Faith and Grace of the Gospel ; and 
 consequently, things that shall never be placed in the King- 
 dom 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 atjirst, but 
 I am as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him ? 
 
 CHR. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall 
 find that he will soon be sick of your Company too, except 
 God shall touch his heart and turn it. 
 
 FAITH. What would you have me to do ? 
 
 CHR. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious dis- 
 course 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 r 
 Talkative : Come, what chear ? how is it now ? 
 
 TALK. Thank you, Well. I thought we should have had 
 a great deal of Ta Ik by this time. 
 
 FAITH. Well, if yon will, we will fall to it now , and since 
 you left it with me to state the question, let it be this : Plow 
 doth the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in the 
 heart of man ? 
 
100 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 TALK. I perceive then that our talk must be about the power 
 of things ; Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall be 
 willing to answer you. And take my answer 
 
 in brief thus " First > Where the Gmce f God 
 
 grace. fa In the heart, it causeth there a great outcry 
 
 against sin. Secondly, 
 
 FAITH. Nay hold, let us consider of one at once : I think 
 you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining the Soul to 
 abhor its sin. 
 TO cry out TALK. Why, what difference is there between 
 
 against sin, m . * / . . . 
 
 sign of Grace. crying out against, and abhonng 01 sin r 
 
 FAITH. Oh ! a great deal ; a man may cry out against sin, 
 of policy ; but he cannot abhor it, but by vertue of a Godly 
 antipathy against it : I have heard many cry out against sin 
 i in the Pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, 
 house, and conversation. Joseph's Mistris cried out with a loud 
 voice, as if she had been very holy ; but she would willingly, 
 notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. 
 Some cry out against sin, even as the Mother cries out against 
 her Child in her lap, when she calleth it Slut and naughty 
 Girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it. 
 
 TALK. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 
 
 FAITH. No not I, I am only for setting things right. But 
 what is the second thing whereby you would prove a discovery 
 of a work of grace in the heart ? 
 
 TALK. Great knowledge of Gospel Mysteries. 
 
 FAITH. Tliis sign should have been Jlrst ; but Jirst or last, 
 
 t know ^ a ^ so f a ^ se ' f r 5 Knowledge, great knowledge, 
 icdrjenosign may be obtained in the mysteries of the Gospel, 
 and yet no work of grace in the Soul : Yea, if 
 a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so 
 consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, Do you 
 know all these things ? and the Disciples had answered, Yes : 
 He addeth, Blessed are ye, if ye do them. He doth not lay 
 

 THE WORK O* 1 GRACE .. 101 
 
 ike blessing in the knowing of them, bnt'iit the 'doing of them, 
 for there is a knowledge~JhM~rs~JwT^tteluJecl with doing : He 
 that knoweth his Masters will, and doth it not. A man may 
 know like an Angel, and yet be iw Christian; therefore your 
 sign 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 therefore Knowledge and 
 knowledge and knowledge. Knowledge that knowledge. 
 resteth in the bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is 
 accompanied with the grace of faith and love, which puts a man 
 upon doing even the will of God from the heart : the first of 
 these will serve the Talker, but without the other the true 
 Christian is not content. Give me understand- Tnfe knowlcd e 
 ing, and I shall keep thy Law, yea, I shall attended loan 
 
 . , , , " , endeavours. 
 
 observe it with my whole heart. 
 
 TALK. You lie at the catch again, this is not for edifica- 
 tion. 
 
 FAITH. Well, if you please, propound another sign how this 
 work of grace discovereth itself where it is. 
 
 TALK. Not I, for I see we shall not agree. 
 
 FAITH. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it ? 
 
 TALK. You may use your liberty. 
 
 FAITH. A work of grace in the soul discover- One go0 d.sign 
 eth itself r either to him that hath it, or to of grace. 
 slanders 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 Jindeth 
 not mercy at God^s hand by faith in Jesus Christ.) This 
 sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for 
 sin ; he Jindeth moreover revealed in him the Saviour of the 
 World, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life, 
 at the which he Jindeth hungerings and thirstings after him, to 
 
102 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 which hungerings, etc: Hie promise is made. Now according to 
 the strength or weakness of his Faith in his Saviour., so is his 
 joy and peace, so is his love to holiness., so are his desires to 
 know him more, and also to serve him in this World. But 
 though I say it discovereth itself thus unto him ; yet it is but 
 seldom that he is able to conclude that this is a work of 
 Grace, because his corruptions now, arid his abused reason, 
 makes his mind to mis-judge in this matter; therefore in him 
 that hath this work, there is required a very sound Judgement, 
 before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of 
 Grace. 
 
 \To others it is thus discovered. 
 1. By an experimental confession of his Faith in Christ. 
 . 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 an Hypocrite or 
 Talkative Person may do : but by a practical Subjection in 
 Faith, and Love, to the power of the word. And now Sir, as 
 to this brief description of the work of Grace, and also the dis- 
 covery of it, if you have ought to object, object ; if not, then 
 give me leave to propound to you a second question. 
 
 TALK. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear ; 
 let me therefore have your second question. 
 
 FAITH. It is this, Do you experience the jirst part of this 
 Another good description of it ? and doth your life and con- 
 sign of Grace. versation testify the same ? or standeth your 
 Religion in Word or in Tongue, and not in Deed and Truth ? 
 pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than 
 you know the God above will say Amen to ; and also, nothing 
 but what your Conscience can justify you in : For, not he 
 that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord 
 
PLAIN DEALING TO TALKATIVE 103 
 
 commendeth. Besides, to say I am thus, and thus, when my 
 Conversation, and all my Neighbors tell me I lye, is great 
 wickedness. 
 
 TALK. Then Talkative at first began to blush, but recover- 
 ing himself, Thus he replyed, You come now to Talkative not 
 Experience, to Conscience, and God : and to 5^/$zf * 
 appeal to him for justification of what is Question. 
 spoken : This kind of discourse I did not expect, nor am 
 I disposed to give an answer to such questions, because, 
 I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you 
 to be a Catechiser ; and, though you should so do, yet I may 
 refuse to make you my Judge. But I pray will you tell me, 
 why you ask me such questions ? 
 
 FAITH. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I 
 knew not that you had ought else but notion. TJie reasons 
 Besides, to tell you all the Truth, I have heard l ^{^ a ^f hat 
 of you, that you are a Man whose Religion lies question. 
 in talk, and that your Conversation gives this your Mouth- 
 profession the lye. They say You are a spot 
 
 among Christians, and that Religion fareth the plain dealing 
 
 * . J to Talkative. 
 
 worse jor your ungodly conversations that some 
 already have stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more 
 are in danger of being destroyed thereby ; your Religion, and 
 an Ale-House, and Covetousness, and uncleanness, and swear- 
 ing, and lying, and vain Company-keeping, etc. will stand 
 together. The proverb is true of you, which is said of 
 a Whore, to wit, That she is a shame to all Women , so you 
 are a shame to all Professors. 
 
 TALK. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge 
 so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude you Talkatil . eflings 
 are some peevish, or melancholy Man, not fit away from 
 
 4- U J- J -4.1 J J- Faithful. 
 
 to be discoursed with, and so adieu. 
 
 CHR. Then came up Christian, and said to his Brother, 
 I told you how it would happen, your words and his lusts 
 
104 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 could not agree ; he had rather leave your company? than 
 Agoodridance. reform his life. But he is gone as I said; let 
 him go ; the loss is no man's but his own ; he has saved us 
 the trouble of going from him ; for he continuing, as 
 I suppose he will do, as he is, he would have been but 
 a blot in our Company : besides, the Apostle says, From 
 such withdraw thyself. 
 
 FAITH. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him, 
 it may happen that he will think of it again ; howeve?', I hare 
 dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood, if he 
 perisheth. 
 
 CHR. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did, 
 there is but little of this faithful dealing with men now a 
 days ; and that makes Religion to stink in the nostrils of 
 many, as it doth : for they are these Talkative Fools, whose 
 Religion is only in word, and are debauched and vain in their 
 Conversation, that (being so much admitted into the Fellow- 
 ship of the Godly) do stumble the World, blemish Christianity, 
 and grieve the Sincere. I wish that all men would deal with 
 such as you have done, then should they either be made more 
 conformable to Religion, or the company of Saints would be 
 too hot for them. 
 
 How Talkative at ^ first lifts up his Plumes ! 
 How bravely doth he speak ! how he presumes 
 To drive down all before him ! but so soon 
 As Faithful talks of Heart-work, like the Moon 
 Thafs past the full, into the wane he goes; 
 And so will all, but he that Heart- work knows. 
 
 Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the 
 way, and so made that way easv, which would otherwise, no 
 doubt, have been tedious to them : for now they went through 
 a Wilderness. 
 
EVANGELISTS EXHORTATION 105 
 
 Now when they were got almost quite out of this Wilderness, 
 Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming 
 after them, and he knew him. Oh ! said Faithful to his 
 Brother, who comes yonder ? Then Christian looked, and 
 said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend 
 too, said Faithful ; for "'twas he that set me the E d 
 way to the Gate. Now was Evangelist come overtakes them 
 up unto them, and thus saluted them. 
 
 EVANG. Peace be with you, dearly beloved, and, peace be 
 to your helpers, 
 
 CHR. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the sight of 
 thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy Th& 
 
 ancient kindness, and unwearied laboring for at the sight of 
 , , te J him. 
 
 my eternal good. 
 
 FAITH. And, a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful ; 
 Thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to us, 
 poor Pilgrims ! 
 
 EVANG. Then, said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, 
 my friends, since the time of our last parting ? what have you 
 met with, and how have you behaved your selves ? 
 
 Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that 
 had happened to them in the way ; and how, and with what 
 difficulty they had arrived to that place. 
 
 EVANG. Right glad am I, said Evangelist ; not that you 
 met with trials, but that you have been victors, His exhortation 
 and for that you have (notwithstanding many to them - 
 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 
 time ye shall reap, if you faint not. The Crown is before 
 you, and it is an incorruptible one ; so run that you may 
 obtain it. Some there be that set out for this Crown, and 
 
106 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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. You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the 
 Devil. You have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin. 
 Let the Kingdom be always before you, and believe stedfastly 
 concerning things that are invisible. Let nothing that is on 
 this side the other world get within you ; and above all, look 
 well to your own hearts, and to the lusts thereof ; for they 
 are deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked : set 
 your faces like a flint, you have all power in Heaven and 
 Earth on your side. 
 
 CHR. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation, but 
 They do thank ^^ ^ m W ^lidl 9 ^ a ^ ^ ie il would hare him speak 
 
 Mm for MS ex- farther to them for their help, the rest of the 
 way ; and the rather, for that they well knew 
 that he was a Prophet, and could tell them of things that might 
 happen unto them ; and also how they might resist and over- 
 come them. To which request Faithful also consented. So 
 Evangelist began as follow eth. , 
 
 OEvAXG. My Sons, you have heard in the words of the 
 Hepredicteth truth of the Gospel, that you must through 
 
 troubles many tribulations enter into the Kingdom of 
 
 they shall meet " .. . t ~ 
 
 ivith in vanity- Heaven. And again, that in every City, bonds 
 courageth them an d afflictions abide in you ; and therefore you 
 to stedfastness. cannot expect that you should go long on your 
 Pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. You have 
 found something of the truth of these testimonies upon you 
 already, and more will immediately follow : for now, as you 
 see, you are almost out of this Wilderness, and therefore you 
 will soon come into a Town that you will by and by see before 
 you : and in that Town you will be hardly beset with enemies, 
 who will strain hard but they will kill you : and be you sure 
 that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you 
 . hold, with blood : but be you faithful unto death, and the 
 
VANITY FAIR 107 
 
 King will give you a Crown of life. He that shall die 
 there, although his death will be unnatural, He whoae lot it 
 and his pain perhaps great, he will yet have wil1 be th .<; io 
 
 r . ii suffer, will have 
 
 the better of his fellow; not only because he the better of Us 
 will be arrived at the Ccelestial 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 your selves 
 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 Vanity ; and at the town there is 
 a Fair kept, called Vanity-Fair. It is kept all the Year 
 long : it beareth the name of Vanity-Fair, because the 
 Town where "'tis kept, is lighter than Vanity ; and also, 
 because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is 
 Vanity. As is the saying of the wise, All that cometh is 
 Vanity. 
 
 This Fair is no new erected business, but a thing of ancient 
 standing ; I will shew you the original of it. 
 
 Almost five thousand years agone, there were Pilgrims 
 walking to the Coelestial City, as these two The Antiquity 
 honest persons are; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, of this Fair. 
 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 T ; 
 a Fair wherein should be sold of all sorts of Vanity, and that 
 it should last all the year long. Therefore at this Fair 
 
 1 Behold Vanity Fair ! the Pilgrims there 
 
 Are chain'd and stand beside ; 
 Even so it was our Lord pass'd here, 
 And on Mount Calvary dy'd. 
 
108 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 are all such Merchandize sold, as Houses, Lands, Trades, 
 Places, Honors, Preferments, Titles, Countries, 
 
 The Merchan- ' ' 
 
 dizeoftMs Kingdoms, Lusts, Pleasures and Delights ot 
 all sorts, as Whores, Bawds, Wives, Husbands, 
 Children, Masters, Servants, Lives, Blood, Bodies, Souls, 
 Silver, Gold, Pearls, Precious Stones, and what not. 
 
 And moreover, at this Fair there is at all times to be seen 
 Jugglings, Cheats, Games, Plays, Fools, Apes, Knaves, and 
 Rogues, and that of every kind. 
 
 Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, Thefts, 
 Murders, Adulteries, False-swearers, and that of a blood-red 
 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. Countreys and Kingdoms,) where 
 the Wares of this Fair are soonest to be found : Here is the 
 The streets of Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, 
 this fair. tne Spanish R O w, the German Row, where 
 
 several sorts of Vanities are to be sold. But as in other fairs, 
 some one Commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the 
 
 and her Merchandize 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 Ccelestial 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. The Prince of 
 
 Christ went o J 
 
 through this Princes himself, when here, went through this 
 
 Town to his own Country, and that upon 
 
 a Fair-day too : Yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub the 
 
 chief Lord of this Fair, that invited him to buy of his 
 
 X %> 
 
 Vanities ; yea, would have made him Lord of the Fair, would 
 he but have clone him Reverence as he went through the 
 
- 
 
CAUSES OF HUBBUB 111 
 
 Town. Yea, because he was such a person of Honour, 
 Beelzebub had him from Street to Street, and shewed him all 
 the Kingdoms of the World in a little time, that he might, if 
 possible, allure that Blessed One, to cheapen and buy some of 
 his Vanities. But he had no mind to the 
 
 Christ bought 
 
 Merchandize, and therefore left the Town, with- nothing in this 
 out laying out so much as one Farthing upon 
 these Vanities. This Fair therefore is an Ancient thing, of 
 long standing, and a very great Fair. 
 
 Now these Pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this 
 fair. Well, so they did ; but behold, even as The pu (jr i ms 
 they entred into the fair, all the people in the enter the fair. 
 fair were moved, and the Town it self as it 
 
 / The fair in a 
 
 were in a Hubbub about them ; and that for hubbub about 
 
 -r, them, 
 
 several reasons : .for, 
 
 First, the Pilgrims were cloathed with such kind of Raiment 
 as was diverse from the , Raiment of any that The first cause 
 Traded in that fair. The people therefore of of tue hubbub, 
 the fair made a great gazing upon them. Some said they 
 were Fools, some they were Bedlams, and some they are 
 Outlandish-men. 
 
 Secondly, And as they wondred at their Apparel, so they 
 did likewise at their Speech, for few could 2nd Cause / 
 understand what they said ; they naturally 
 spoke the Language of Canaan, but they that kept the fair, 
 were the men of this World : so that from one end of the fair 
 to the other, they seemed Barbarians each to the other. 
 
 Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the 
 Merchandizes, was, that these Pilgrims set very Third cause of 
 light by all their Wares, they cared not so the hubbub. 
 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 up- 
 wards, signifying that their Trade and Traffic was in Heaven. 
 
112 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriages of the 
 Fourth cause of men, to say unto them, What will ye buy ? 
 me hubbub. gut they, looking gravely upon him, said, We 
 buy the Truth. At that, there was an occasion taken to 
 They are despise the men the more ; some mocking, some 
 
 mocked. taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and 
 
 some calling upon others to smite them. At last things 
 The fair in a came to an hubbub and great stir in the fair, 
 hubbub. j n so much that all order was confounded. Now 
 
 was word presently brought to the Great One of the fair, 
 who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty 
 friends to take these men into examination, about whom the 
 They are ex- fair was almost overturned. So the men were 
 amined. brought to examination ; and they that sat 
 
 upon them asked them whence they came, whither they went, 
 and what they did there in such an unusual Garb ? The men 
 They tell ivho told them, that they were Pilgrims and Strangers 
 
 when^eT in the World > and thal ^ Were S in g tO 
 c ame > their own Country, which was the Heavenly 
 
 Jerusalem ; and that they had given none occasion to the 
 men of the Town, nor yet to the Merchandizers, 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 
 They are not appointed to examine them did not believe them 
 believed. J-Q be any other than Bedlams and Mad, or else 
 
 such as came to put all things into a confusion in the fair. 
 Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared 
 They are put in them with dirt, and then put them into the 
 the Cage. Cage, that they might be made a Spectacle to 
 
 all the men of the fair. There therefore they lay for some 
 time, and were made the objects of any mans sport, or 
 Their behaviour malice, or ivvcuge. The Great One of the 
 inthecag*. /^r laughing still at all that befel them. But 
 
THE PILGRIMS IN CHAINS 113 
 
 to' 
 
 the men being patient, and not rendering railing for railing 
 but contrarywise blessing, and giving good words for bad, 
 and kindness for injuries done, some men in The men of the 
 the fair that were more observing, and less fair do fail out 
 
 .,.-., -, % i amongthem- 
 
 prejudiced than the rest, began to check and selves about 
 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 be made partakers of their misfortunes. The 
 other replied, That for ought they could see, the men were 
 quiet, and sober, and intended nobody any harm ; and that 
 there were many that traded in their fair, that were more 
 worthy to be put into the Cage, yea, and Pillory too, than 
 were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers 
 words had passed on both sides, (the men behaving them- 
 selves all the while very wisely and soberly before them,) they 
 fell to some Blows, and did harm one to another. Then 
 were these two poor men brought before their They are made 
 Examiners again, and there charged as being ^St^SmS^ 
 guilty of the late Hubbub that had been in the ance - 
 fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon 
 them, and led them in chains up and down the They are led up 
 fair, for an example and a terror to others, lest and down the 
 
 u fair in Chains 
 
 any should further speak in their behalf, or for a terror to 
 
 join themselves unto them. But Christian and 
 
 Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received 
 
 the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much 
 
 meekness and patience, that it won to their side some of the men 
 
 (though but few in comparison of the rest) of the fair won 
 
 several of the men in the fair. This put the 
 
 other party yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they 
 
 concluded the death of these two men. Where- Their adver- 
 
 fore they threatned that the Cage nor irons to idii them. 
 
114 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 should serve their turn, but that they should die, for the 
 abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the 
 fair. 
 
 Then were they remanded to the Cage again until further 
 order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and 
 made their feet fast in the Stocks. 
 
 Here also they called again to mind what they had heard 
 from their faithful friend Evangelist, and was the more con- 
 firmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told them 
 would happen to them. They also now comforted each other, 
 that whose lot it was to suffer, that even he should have the 
 best on't ; therefore each man secretly wished that he might 
 have that preferment ; but committing themselves to the 
 All-wise dispose of him that ruleth all things, with much 
 content they abode in the condition in which they were, until 
 they should be otherwise disposed of. 
 
 Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought 
 They are again them forth to their Tryal in order to their 
 put into the Condemnation. When the time was come, 
 brought to they were brought before their Enemies and 
 
 rya '"' arraigned; The Judge's name was Lord Hate- 
 
 good. Their indictment was one and the same in substance, 
 though somewhat varying in form ; the Contents whereof 
 was this. 
 
 That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their Trade ; 
 
 Their indict- that they had made Commotions a?id Divisions 
 
 in the Town, and had won a party to their 
 
 oivn most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the Law of their 
 
 Prince. 
 
 Then Faithful began to answer 1 , That he had only set 
 
 1 Now Faithful play the man, speak for thy God : 
 Fear not the wicked's malice nor their rod ; 
 Speak boldly man, the truth is on thy side ; 
 Die for it, and to life in triumph ride. 
 
WITNESSES AGAINST FAITHFUL 115 
 
 himself against that which had set itself against him that 
 is higher than the highest. And said he, As Faithfuls 
 for disturbance, I make none, being myself himself. 
 a man of Peace ; the Parties that were won to us, were 
 won by beholding our Truth and Innocence, and they are 
 only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the 
 King you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the Enemy of our 
 Lord, I defy him and all his Angels. 
 
 Then Proclamation was made, that they that had ought to 
 say for their Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar, 
 should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there 
 came in three Witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and 
 Pickthank. They were then asked, If they knew the Prisoner 
 at the Bar ? and what they had to say for their Lord the 
 King against him ? 
 
 Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect ; My Lord, 
 I have known this man a long time, and will 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, My Lord, This man, 
 notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men 
 in our Country ; he neither regardeth Prince nor People, Law 
 nor Custom : but 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. 
 
 JUDGE. Then did the Judge say to him, Hast thou any 
 more to say ? 
 
 ENVY. My Lord I could say much more, only I would not 
 
116 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 be tedious to the Court. Yet if need be, when the other 
 Gentlemen have given in their Evidence, rather than any 
 
 o * 
 
 thing shall be wanting that will dispatch him, I will enlarge 
 my Testimony against him. So he was bid stand by. Then 
 they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the Prisoner ; 
 they also asked, What he could say for their Lord the King 
 against him ? Then they sware him, so he began. 
 
 SUPER. My Lord, I have no great acquaintance with this 
 Superstition man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge 
 follows. O f hj m . However this I know, that he is a very 
 
 pestilent fellow, from some discourse that the other day I had 
 with him in this Town ,- for then talking with him, I heard 
 him say, That our Religion was naught, and such by which 
 a man could by no means please God : which sayings of his, 
 mv Lord, your Lordship very well knows, what necessarily 
 thence will follow, to wit, That we still do Avorship in vain, 
 are yet in our Sins, and finally shall be damned ; and this 
 is that which I have to say. 
 
 Then was Pickihank 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 
 Pick-thanks known of a long time, and have heard him 
 Testimony. speak things that ought not to be spoke. For 
 
 he hath railed on our noble Prince Beelzebub, and hath spoke 
 contemptibly of his honourable Friends, whose names are the 
 Lord Oldman, the Lord Carnal-delight, the 
 
 Sins are all . . 
 
 Lords and Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of Vain-glory, 
 
 my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with 
 all the rest of our Nobility ; and he hath said moreover, that 
 if all men were of his mind, if possible, there is not one of 
 these Noblemen should have any longer a being in this Town. 
 Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my Lord, who 
 are now appointed to be his Judge, calling you an ungodly 
 
FAITHFULS DEFENCE 117 
 
 Villain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with which 
 he hath bespattered most of the Gentry of our Town. When 
 this Pickiharik had told his tale, the Judge directed his 
 speech to the Prisoner at the Bar, saying, Thou Runagate, 
 Heretick, and Traitor, hast thou heard what these honest 
 Gentlemen have witnessed against thee ? 
 
 FAITH. May I speak a few words in my own defence ? 
 
 JUDGE. Sirrah, Sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, but 
 to be slain immediately upon the place ; yet that all men may 
 see our gentleness towards thee, let us see what thou hast to say. 
 
 FAITH. 1. I say then in answer to what Mr. Envy hath 
 spoken, I never said ought but this, That what 
 
 Faithfuls 
 
 Ride, or Laws, or Custom, or People, were Jlat defence of 
 against the Word of God, are diametrically 
 opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, con- 
 vince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to 
 make my recantation. 
 
 2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge 
 against me, I said only this, That in the worship of God there 
 is required a divine Faith; but there can be no divine Faith 
 without a divine Revelation of the will of God: therefore what- 
 ever is thrust into the worship of God, that is not agreeable to 
 divine Revelation, cannot be done but by an human Faith ; 
 which Faith will not be projit to Eternal life. 
 
 3. As to what Mr. Pickihank hath said, I say, (avoiding 
 terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like) That the Prince 
 of this Town, with all the Rabblement his Attendants, by this 
 Gentleman named, are more fit for a being in Hell, than in 
 this Town and Country ; and so the Lord have mercy upon me. 
 
 Then the Judge called to the Jury (who all this while stood 
 by, to hear and observe) Gentlemen of the Jury, you see this 
 man about whom so great an uproar hath been , T 
 
 Hie Judge his 
 
 made in this Town : you have also heard what speech to the 
 these worthy Gentlemen have witnessed against 
 
118 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 an Act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, 
 Servant to our Prince, That lest those of a contrary Religion 
 should multiply and grow too strong for him, their Males 
 should be thrown into the River. There was also an Act 
 made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, another of his 
 Servants, that whoever would not fall down and worship his 
 golden Image, should be thrown into a fiery Furnace. There 
 was also an Act made in the days of Darius, That Avhoso, for 
 some time, called upon any God but him, should be cast into 
 the Lions 1 Den. Now the substance of these Laws this Rebel 
 has broken, not only in thought (which is not to be borne) 
 but also in word and deed ; which must therefore needs be 
 intolerable. 
 
 For that of Pharaoh, his Law was made upon a sup- 
 position, to prevent mischief, no Crime being yet apparent 
 but here is a Crime apparent. For the second and third, 
 you see he disputeth against our Religion ; and for 
 the Treason he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the 
 death. 
 
 Then went the Jury out, whose names were, Mr. Blind-man, 
 The Jury and ^ r - No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, 
 th^r Names. Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, 
 Mr. Enmity, Mr. Lyar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and 
 Mr. Implacable, who every one gave in his private Verdict 
 against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously 
 concluded to bring him in guilty before the Judge. And 
 Every ones ^ rs t Mr. Blind-man the Foreman, said, / see 
 
 private Verdict, dearly that this man is an Herctick. Then said 
 Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow from the Edrt/t. Ay, 
 said Mr. Malice, for I hate the rery looks of him. Then 
 said Mr. Lore-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said 
 
THE CRUEL DEATH OF FAITHFUL. 
 
FAITHFULS CRUEL DEATH 
 
 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. Lyar. Hanging is 
 too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Lets dispatch him out of 
 the way, said Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, 
 Might I have all the World given me, I could not be reconciled 
 to him, therefore let us forthwith bring him in The on l . 
 guilty of death ; And so they did, therefore to bring him in 
 he was presently condemned, To be had from 
 the place where he was, to the place from whence he came, 
 and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be 
 invented 1 . 
 
 1 They therefore brought him out, to do with him according 
 to their Law ; and first they Scourged him, then The Cniel death 
 they Buffeted him, then they Lanced his flesh of Faithful. 
 with Knives ; after that, they Stoned him with Stones, then 
 prickt 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 multi- A chariot and 
 tude, a Chariot and a couple of Horses, waiting %%? to 
 for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries Faithful. 
 had dispatched him) was taken up into it, and straightway 
 was carried up through the Clouds, with sound of Trumpet, 
 the nearest way to the Coelestial Gate. But as Christian is 
 for Christian, he had some respit, and was re- still alive. 
 manded back to prison, so he there remained for a space. 
 But he that over-rules 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. 
 
 1 Brave Faithful, Bravely done in word and deed ; 
 Judge, Witnesses, and Jury, have instead 
 Of overcoming thee, but shewn their rage, 
 When they are dead, thou 'It live, from age to age. 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 And as he went lie sang, saying, 
 
 The Song that Well, Faithful, thou liast faithfully profest 
 
 tf r Fam f ui ade Unto tli y Lord : wlth wllom thou shalt be Uest 
 after iiis death. When Faithless ones, with all their vain delights, 
 
 Are crying out under their hellish plights. 
 Sing, Faithful, sing ; and let thy name survive, 
 For though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that Christian went not forth 
 
 Christian has al ne fol ' t J 16re WRS lie wh Se llftm f WaS 
 
 another Com- Hopeful, (being made so by the beholding of 
 Christian and Faithful in their words and be- 
 haviour, in their sufferings at the fair) who joyned himself 
 unto him, and entering into a brotherly covenant, told him 
 that he would be his Companion. Thus one died to make 
 Testimony to the Truth, and another rises out of his Ashes 
 to be a Companion with Christian. This Hopeful also told 
 There is more Christian, that there were many more of the 
 
 tfiefafrwilf lllen in the f alr that W0llld take theil> time 
 follow. and follow after. 
 
 So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the fair, 
 they overtook one that was going before them, whose name 
 They overtake was By -ends ; so they said to him, What 
 By-ends. Coun try-man, 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 Ccelestial City, (but 
 told them not his name.) 
 
 From Fair-speech, said Christian ; Is there any that be good 
 live there ? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. 
 
 CITR. Pray Sir, what may I call you ? 
 
 By-ends loth to BY-ENDS. I am a Stranger to you, and you 
 to me ; if you be going this way, I shall be glad 
 of your Company ; if not, I must be content. 
 
MR. BY-ENDS OF FAIR-SPEECH 
 
 CHR. This Town of Fair-speech, / have heard of it, and, as 
 I remember, they say ifs a Wealthy place. 
 
 BY-ENDS. Yes, I will assure you that it is, and I have very 
 many rich Kindred there. 
 
 CHR. Pray, who are your Kindred there, if a man may be 
 so bold ? 
 
 BY-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-bothivays, 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 a Gentleman of good Quality ; yet my Great- 
 Grandfather was but a Water-man, looking one way, and 
 rowing another ; and I got most of my Estate by the same 
 occupation. 
 
 CHR. Are you a married man ? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Yes, and my Wife is a very vertuous Woman, 
 the Daughter of a vertuous Woman. She was 
 
 Tlie wife and 
 
 my Lady Fainings Daughter, therefore she Kindred of By- 
 
 came of a very Honourable Family, and is 
 
 arrived at such a pitch of Breeding, that she knows how to 
 
 carry it to all, even to Prince and Peasant. "Tis where By-ends 
 
 true, we somewhat differ in Religion from those 
 
 of the stricter sort, yet but in two small points : 
 
 First, we never strive against Wind and Tide. Secondly, we 
 
 are always most zealous when Religion goes in his Silver 
 
 Slippers ; we love much to walk with him in the Street, if 
 
 the Sun shines, and the people applaud it. 
 
 Then Christian stept a little a to-side 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 
 
 F3 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as 
 if you knew something more than all the World doth, and if 
 I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you : 
 Is not your name Mr. By-ends of Fair-speech ? 
 
 BY-EXDS. That is not mv name, but indeed it is a Nick- 
 
 /* 
 
 name that is given me by some that cannot abide me, and 
 I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men 
 have born theirs before me. 
 
 CHR. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you 
 by this name ? 
 
 BY-ENDS. Never, never ! the worst that ever I did to give 
 How By-ends them an occasion to give me this name, was, 
 got his name, t ^ at j j ia( j a i ways t he luck to jump in my 
 
 Judgment with the present way of the times, what- 
 ever it was, and my chance was to get thereby ; but if 
 things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a 
 blessing, but let not the malicious load me therefore with 
 reproach. 
 
 CHR. / thought indeed, that you was the man that I had 
 heard of, and to tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs 
 to you more properly than you are willing we should think it 
 doth. 
 
 BY-ENDS. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot 
 He desires to ^P ^. You shall find me a fair Company- 
 keep company keeper, if you will still admit me your 
 
 with Christian. -"- . ' J 
 
 associate. 
 
 CHR. If you will go with its, you must go against Wind and 
 Tide, the which, I perceive, is against your opinion: You 
 must also own Religion in his Rags, as well as when 
 in his Silver Slippers, and stand by him too, when 
 bound in Irons, as well as when he walketh the Streets with 
 applause. 
 
 BY-ENDS. You must not impose, nor lord it over my Faith; 
 leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. 
 
BY-ENDS NEW COMPANIONS. 125 
 
 CHR. Not a step further, unless you icill do in ichat I pro- 
 pound , as ice. 
 
 Then said By-ends., I shall never desert my old Principles, 
 since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with 
 you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even go by 
 myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my 
 Company. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful, for- 
 sook him, and kept their distance before him ; 
 
 1 t By-ends and 
 
 but one of them looking back, saw three men Christian 
 following Mr. By -ends, and behold, as they 
 came up with him, he made them a very low Congee, and 
 they also gave him a Compliment. The men's n e & a6 . new 
 names were Mr. Hold-the- World, Mr. Money-love, Companions. 
 and Mr. Save-all ; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been 
 acquainted with ; for in their minority they were schoolfellow, 
 and were taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a School-master 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, c6usenage, Hattery, lying, or by 
 putting on a guise of Religion ; and these four Gentle- 
 men had attained much of the art of their Master, so 
 that they could each of them have kept such a School 
 themselves. 
 
 Well when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, 
 Mr. Mony-love said to Mr. By-ends, Who are they upon the 
 Road before us ? Eor Christian and Hopeful were yet within 
 view. 
 
 BY-ENDS. They are a couple of far country- ^ _ ends C7ja? ._ 
 men, that after their mode, are going on acterofthe 
 
 ,^.* . Pilgrims. 
 
 Pilgrimage. 
 
 MONY-LOVE. Alas, why did they not stay that we might 
 have had their good company, for they, and we, and you Sir, 
 I hope ? are all going on Pilgrimage. 
 
126 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, 
 they thrust him quite out of their company. 
 
 SAVE- ALL. That's bad ; But we read of some, that arc 
 righteous over-much, 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 
 hazarding all for God, at a clap, and I am for taking all 
 advantages to secure my life and estate. They are for hold- 
 ing 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 Sun-shine, and with applause. 
 
 HOLD-THE- WORLD. Ay, and hold you there still, good 
 Mr. By-ends, for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, 
 that having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise 
 as to lose it. Let us be wise as Serpents, 'tis best to make hay 
 when the Sun shines ; you see how the Bee lieth still all 
 winter and bestirs her then only when she can have profit 
 with pleasure. God sends sometimes Rain, and sometimes 
 Sun-shine ; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet 
 let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my 
 part I like that Religion best, that will stand with the security 
 of God's good blessings unto us ; for who can imagine that 
 is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the 
 good things of this life, but that he would have us keep them 
 for his sake. Abraham and Solomon grew rich in Religion. 
 And Job says, that a good man shall lay nj) gold as dust. But 
 
MONY-LOVES OPINIONS 127 
 
 he must not be such as the men before us, if they be as you 
 have described them. 
 
 SAVE-ALL. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, 
 and therefore there needs no more words about it. 
 
 MONY-LOVE. No, there needs no more words about this 
 matter indeed, for he that believes neither Scripture nor 
 reason (and you see we have both on our side) neither knows 
 his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. 
 
 BY-EXDS. My Brethren, we are, as you see, going all on 
 Pilgrimage, and for our better diversion from things that are 
 bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question. 
 
 Suppose a man, a Minister, or a Tradesman, $c. should 
 have an advantage lie before him to get the good blessings 
 of this life. Yet so, as that he can by no means come by them, 
 except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinary Zealous 
 in some points of Religion, that he meddled not with before, 
 may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right 
 honest man ? 
 
 MONY-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 benejice, and has in his eye 
 a greater, more fat, and plump by far ; he has also now an 
 opportunity of getting 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 his 
 principles ; for my part I see no reason but a man may do 
 this (provided he has a call,) ay, and more a great deal 
 besides, and yet be an honest man. For why, 
 
 1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be 
 contradicted) since 'tis set before him by providence ; so then, 
 he may get it if he can, making no question for conscience sake. 
 
 2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more 
 
128 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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. 3. And so more fit for the 
 Ministerial function. 
 
 4. I conclude then, that a Minister that changes a small 
 for a great, should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous, 
 but rather, since he is improved in his parts and industry 
 thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the 
 opportunity put into his hand to do good. 
 
 And now to the second part of the question which concerns 
 the Tradesman you mentioned : suppose such an one to have 
 but a poor imploy 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 vertue, by what means soever 
 a man becomes so. 
 
 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to 
 my shop. 
 
 3. Besides the man that gets these by becoming religious, 
 gets that which is good, of them that are good, by becoming 
 good himself ; so then here is a good wife, and good customers, 
 and good gain, and all these by becoming religious, which is 
 good. Therefore to become religious to get all these is a good 
 and profitable design. 
 
 This answer, thus made by this Mr. Mony-love to Mr. 
 By-ends question, was highly applauded by them all ; wherefore 
 they concluded upon the whole, that it was most wholsome 
 and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man 
 
 O ' O 
 
 was able to contradict it, and because Clu'istian and Hopeful 
 
RELIGION A STALKING HORSE 129 
 
 was yet within call, they joyntly 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 stopt, 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. 
 
 / 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, even a babe in Religion may 
 answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful 
 to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, Joli. 6. 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 cir- 
 cumcised, they say to their companions ; If every male of 
 us be circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their 
 Cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs be ours ? 
 Their Daughter and their Cattle were that which they sought 
 to obtain, and their Religion the stalking horse they made 
 
 o o ./ 
 
 use of to come at them. Read the whole story, Gen. 34. 20, 
 21, 22, 23. 
 
 2. The Hypocritical Pharisees were also of this Religion, 
 long prayers were their pretence, but to get widows' houses 
 were their intent, and greater damnation was from God their 
 Judgment, Luke 20. 46, 47. 
 
 3. Judas the Devil was also of this Religion, he was 
 
130 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 religious 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 
 therewith, and his sentence from Peters mouth was according, 
 Acts 8. 19, 20, 21, 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 designed the world in 
 becoming religious, so surely did he also sell Religion, and his 
 Master for the same. To answer the question therefore 
 affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to accept of as 
 authentick 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 Christians 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 ? & if they are mute when dealt 
 with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be 
 rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire ? 
 
 Then Christian and Hopeful out- went them, and went till 
 The ease that they came at a delicate Plain, called Ease, where 
 is butiittieln they went with much content ; but that plain 
 was but narrow^ so they were quickly got over 
 it. Now at the further side of that plain, was a little Hill 
 Lucre inn a called Lucre, and in that Hill a Silver-Mine, 
 
 dangerous Hill. wh j ch SQme Q f them thftt j m( j f ornier l y gone 
 
 that way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to 
 see ; but going too near the brink of the pit, the ground 
 
THE HILL LUCRE 131 
 
 being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain ; 
 some also had been maimed there, and could not to their 
 dying day be their own men again. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that a little off the road, over 
 against the Silver-Mine, stood Demas (Gentle- Demasatthe 
 man-like,) to call to Passengers to come and 
 see : who said to Christian and his Fellow ; jj e calls to 
 Ho, turn aside hither, and I will shew you a %$*?"* 
 
 thill ". come to him. 
 
 CHR. What thing 1 so deserving, as to turn ns out of the way ? 
 
 DE. Here is a Silver-Mine, and some digging in it for 
 Treasure ; if you will come, with a little pains, you may 
 richly provide for yourselves. 
 
 HOPE. Then said Hopeful, Let ns go see. Hopeful 
 
 CHR. Not I, said Christian; I have heard ^i^tian 
 of this place before now, and how many have llolds him back - 
 there been slain ; and besides, that Treasure is a snare to 
 those that seek it, for it hindreth them in their Pilgrimage. 
 Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place 
 dangerous ? hath it not hindred many in their Pilgrimage ? 
 
 DE. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless : 
 but withal, he blushed as he spake. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir 
 a step, but still keep on our way. 
 
 HOPE. / will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if lie 
 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. 
 
 DE. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you not 
 come over and see ? 
 
 CHR. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, 
 Thou art an Enemy to the right ways of the 
 
 * Christian 
 
 Lord in this way, and hast been already con- 
 demned for thine own turning aside, by one of 
 
 
132 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 his Majesty's Judges; and why seekest them to bring us into 
 the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our 
 Lord the King will certainly hear thereof; and will there 
 put us to shame, where we would stand with boldness before 
 him. 
 
 Demas cried again, That he also was one of their fraternity ; 
 and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself would 
 
 V *J 
 
 walk with them. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? is it not the 
 same by the which I have called thee ? 
 
 DE. Yes, my name is Demas, I am the son of Abraham. 
 
 CHR. I know you, Gehazi was your Great-Grandfather, 
 and Judas your Father, and you have trod their steps. 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 was come again 
 By-ends goes within sight, and they at the first beck went 
 over to Demas. over to j) ema ^ N OW whether they fell into the 
 
 Pit by looking over the brink thereof; or whether they went 
 down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom, 
 by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not 
 certain : But this I observed, that they were never seen again 
 in the way. Then sang Christian, 
 
 By-ends and Silver-Demas both agree ; 
 One calls, the other runs, that he may be, 
 A sharer in his Lucre ; so these fcco 
 Take up in this World, and no further go. 
 
 Now I saw, that just on the other side of this Plain, the 
 They see a Pilgrims came to a place where stood an old 
 
 Monu- Monument, hard by the Hiffh-way-side, at the 
 sight of which they were both concerned, because 
 
THE PILGRIMS SEE A STRANGE MONUMENT. 
 
LOTS WIFE 135 
 
 of the strangeness of the form thereof; for it seemed to 
 them as if it had been a Woman transformed into the shape 
 of a Pillar : here therefore they stood looking, and looking 
 upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should 
 make thereof. At last Hopeful espied written above upon 
 the head thereof, a Writing in an unusual hand ; but he 
 being no Scholar, called to Christum (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, Reinember Lots Wife. So he read it to his fellow ; 
 after which, they both concluded, that that was the Pillar of 
 Salt into which Lofs Wife was turned for looking back with 
 a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety, 
 which sudden and amazing sight, gave them occasion of this 
 discourse. 
 
 CHR. Ah my brother, this is a seasonable sight, it came 
 opportunely to us after the invitation which Dernas 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 ought 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 Lofs Wife ; for wherein 
 was the difference 'twixt her sin and mine. She only looked 
 back, and I had a desire to go see. Let Grace be adored, 
 and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in 
 mine heart. 
 
 CHR. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help 
 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 
 
136 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Example ; Caution that we should shun her sin, or a sign of 
 what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented 
 by this caution. So Komli, Datlian, and Ablram, with the two 
 hundred and fifty men, that perished in their sin, did also 
 become a sign, or example to others to beware. But above all, 
 I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can 
 stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which 
 this Woman, but for looking behind her, after (for we read 
 not that she stept one foot out of the way) was turned into 
 a pillar of Salt ; specially since the Judgment which overtook 
 her, did make her an example, within sight of where they 
 are : for they cannot chuse but see her, did they but lift up 
 their eyes. 
 
 CHR. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that 
 their heart is 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 r , because they were sinners before the Lord; 
 that is, in his eyesight ; and notwithstanding the kindnesses 
 that he had shewed them, for the land of Sodom, was now, like 
 the Garden of Eden heretofore. This therefore provoked him 
 the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire 
 of the Lord out of Heaven could make it. And it is most 
 rationally to be concluded, that such, even such as these are, 
 that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such 
 examples that are set continually before them, to caution 
 them to the contrary, must be partakers of severest Judg- 
 ments. 
 
 HOPE. Doubtless thoti hast said the truth, but what a 
 mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made 
 myself this example : this ministreth occasion to us to thank 
 God, to fear before him, and always to remember Lot's 
 Wife. 
 
THE RIVER OF LIFE 137 
 
 I saw then, that they went on their way to a pleasant 
 River, which David the King called the River A River, 
 of God ; but John, the River of the water of life. Now their 
 way lay just upon the bank of the River : here therefore 
 Christian and his Companion walked with great delight. 
 They drank also of the water of the River, which was 
 pleasant and enlivening to their weary Spirits : besides, on 
 the banks of this River on either side were Treesbythz 
 green Trees, that bore all manner of Fruit ; Rlver - 
 and the leaves of the Trees were good for Medicine ; with 
 the Fruit of these Trees they were also much The Fruit an(l 
 delighted; and the leaves they eat to prevent leaves of the 
 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 all the year long. In A Meadow in 
 this Meadow they lay down and slept, for here K ' kich the u lie 
 
 /,-. -.,,-! i down to sleep. 
 
 they might lie down safely. \ V hen they awoke, 
 
 they gathered again of the Fruit of the Trees, and drank 
 again of the Water of the River, and then lay down again 
 to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then 
 they sang : 
 
 Behold ye how these Crystal streams do glide 
 
 ( To comfort Pilgrims) by the Highway side ; 
 
 The Meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, 
 
 Yield dainties for them: And he that can tell 
 
 What pleasant Fruit, yea Leaves, these Trees do yield, 
 
 Will soon sell all, that he may buy this Field. 
 
 So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, 
 as yet, at their Journey's end) they eat and drank, and 
 departed. 
 
 Now I beheld in my Dream, that they had not journied 
 far, but the River and the way, for a time, parted. At 
 
138 THE PILRGIMS PROGRESS 
 
 which they were not a little sorry, yet they durst not go out 
 of the way. Now the way from the River was rough, and 
 their feet tender by reason of their Travels : So the soul of 
 the Pilgrims was much discouraged., because of the way. 
 Wherefore 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 that 
 By-Path- Meadow is called By -Path- Meadow. Then said 
 
 Meadow. Christian to his fellow, If this Meadow lieth 
 
 along by our way side, lets go over into it. Then he went to 
 the Stile to see, and behold a Path lay alon^; 
 
 One femptation J 
 
 does make way bv the way on the other side of the fence. "Pis 
 
 for another. ,. . , j /-7 , i .1 
 
 according to my wish said Ltiristian., here is the 
 easiest going ; come good Hopeful, and let us go over. 
 
 HOPE. But how if this Path should lead us out of the way ? 
 
 CHII. That's not like, said the other ; look, doth it not go 
 strong along by the way side ? So Hopeful, being 
 
 EfSSZS Pervaded by his fellow, went after him over 
 out of the ivay. the Stile. When they were gone over, and were 
 got into the Path, they found it very easy for their feet ; 
 and withal, they looking before them, espied a Man walking 
 as they did, (and his name was Vain confidence) so they called 
 after him, and asked him whither that way led ? he said, 
 
 V 
 
 See what it is To the Coclcstial Gate. Look, said Christian, 
 
 fMin^uh to did not x tcl1 y u so b y this y u ma y * ee 
 
 strangers. W e are right. So they followed, and he went 
 
 before them. But behold the night came on, and it grew 
 very dark, so that they that were behind lost the sight of 
 him that went before. 
 
 He therefore that went before ( Vain confidence by name) 
 not seeing the way before him, fell into a deep Pit, which was 
 A Pit to catch on P ur P ose there made by the Prince of those 
 
 the vain- m'ounds to catch rain glorious fools withal and 
 
 glorious in. 111 , i i r n 
 
 was dashed to pieces with Jus tall. 
 
IN DANGER OF DROWNING 139 
 
 Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they 
 called, to know the matter, but there was none Reasoning 
 to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then 5S5m and 
 said Hopeful, Where are we now ? Then was Hopeful. 
 his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of 
 the way. And now it began to rain, and thunder, and 
 lighten in a very dreadful manner, and the water rose amain. 
 
 Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh that I had 
 Inept on my way ! 
 
 CHR. Who could have thought that this path should have 
 led us out of the way ? 
 
 HOPE. / was afraid out at very Jirst, and therefore gave 
 you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that 
 you are older than I. 
 
 CHR. Good Brother be not offended, I am sorry I have 
 brought thee out of the way, and that I have Christians 
 put thee into such eminent danger ; pray my repentance for 
 
 t, ., f . T -,.-. , i ., f r, leading of his 
 
 Brother forgive me, 1 did not do it or an evil Brother out of 
 intent. the waij ' 
 
 HOPE. Be comforted my Brother for I forgive thee ; and 
 believe too, that this shall be for our good. 
 
 CHR. I am glad I have with me a merciful Brother. But 
 we must not stand thus ; let's try to go back again. 
 
 HOPE, But good Brother let me go before. 
 
 CHR. No, if you please, let me go first ; that if there be 
 any danger, I may be first therein, because by my means we 
 are both gone out of the way. 
 
 HOPE. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go Jirst, for your 
 mind being troubled, may lead you out of the way again. 
 Then for their encouragement, they heard the voice of one 
 saying, Let thine heart be towards the High- They are in 
 way, even the way that thou j^entest^J^rn again, < ^Stinqas 
 But by this time the Waters were greatly risen, they go back. 
 by reason of which, the way of going back was very 
 
140 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of 
 the way when we are in, than going in when we are out.) l 
 Yet they adventured to go back ; but it was so dark, and 
 the flood was so high, that in their going back, they had like 
 to have been drowned nine or ten times. 
 
 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again 
 to the Stile that night. Wherefore, at last, lighting under 
 a little shelter, they sat down there till the day brake ; but 
 The l e 'n being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was 
 the grounds of 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, 
 He finds them anc ^ walking up and down in his Fields, caught 
 in his ground Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. 
 
 find carries 
 
 them to Doubt- 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 
 The Grievous- ^ ar ^ Dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirit 
 ness of their of these two men. Here then they lav, from 
 
 Imprisonment. TT/ . , , . , MI o j 7 uj 'j-U 
 
 Wednesday morning till Saturday night, with- 
 out one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or any light, or any 
 to ask how they did. They were therefore here in evil case, 
 
 The Pilgrims now, to gratify the Flesh, 
 Will seek its ease; but Oh! how they afresh 
 Do thereby plunge themselves new grieves into: 
 Who seek to please the Flesh, themselves undo. 
 
DOUBTING CASTLE 
 
 141 
 
 and were far from friends and acquaintance. Now in this 
 place, Christian had double sorrow, because 'twas through his 
 unadvised haste that they were brought into this distress. 
 
 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, 
 
 GIANT DESPAIR BEATS HIS 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, whence 
 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, 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 he getteth him a grievous Crab-tree Cudgel, and goes down 
 into the Dungeon to them ; and there, first falls to rateing of 
 them as if they were dogs, although they gave him never 
 On Thursday a word of distaste ; then he falls upon them, 
 beat?Ms Spair and beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they 
 Prisoners. were not able to help themselves, or to turn 
 
 them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves 
 them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn under 
 their distress. So all that day they spent the time in 
 nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night 
 she talking with her Husband about them further, and 
 understanding that 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 out of that place, their only way 
 On Friday would be, forthwith to make an end of them- 
 
 ^SSta sdves, either with Knife, Halter, or Poison: 
 kill themselves. p or why, said he, should you chuse life, seeing 
 it is attended with so much bitterness. But they desired him 
 to let them go ; with that he looked ugly upon them, and 
 rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them himself, 
 but that he fell into one of his fits ; (for he sometimes in 
 Giant sun-shine weather fell into fits) and lost (for 
 
 sometimes has a time) the use of his hand : wherefore he with- 
 ftts. 
 
 drew, and left them, (as before) to consider 
 
 what to do. Then did the Prisoners consult between them- 
 selves, whether "'twas best to take his counsel or no : and 
 thus they began to discourse. 
 
 CHR. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? the life 
 
 Christian that we now live is miserable ; for my part 
 
 crushed. j know not whethcr is best% to ]i vc thus, or to 
 
 die out of hand ? My soul chooseth strangling rather than 
 
COMFORT FOR CHRISTIAN 
 
 life ; and the Grave is more easy for me than this Dungeon. 
 Shall we be ruled by the Giant ? 
 
 HOPE. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death 
 would be far more welcome to me than thus for Hopeful 
 ever to abide. But yet let us consider, the Lord com f rts him - 
 of the Country to which we are going, hath said, Thou shalt 
 do no murilier, no not to another marts person ; much more 
 then are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. 
 Besides, he that kills another, cannot but commit murder upon 
 his body ; but for one to kill himself, is to kill body and soul 
 at once. And moreover, my Brother, thou talkest of ease in 
 the Grave ; but hast thou forgotten the Hell, whither for 
 certain the murderers go ? for no murderer hath eternal 
 life, etc. And, let us consider again, that all the Law is 
 not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I 
 can understand, have been taken by him, as well as we; and 
 yet have escaped out of his 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, but he may in short time have another of his Jits 
 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, lefs be patient, and endure a wliile ; 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 Dun- 
 geon 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 
 
144 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 reason of the Wounds they received when he beat them, they 
 could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive ; 
 at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that 
 seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with 
 them than if they had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian 
 fell into a S wound ; but coming a little to himself again, they 
 renewed their discourse about the Gianfs counsel ; and whe- 
 Christian still ther yet they had best to take it or no. Now 
 dejected. Christian again seemed to be for doing it, but 
 
 Hopeful made his second reply as followeth. 
 
 HOPE. My Brother, said he, remembrest thou not how valiant 
 Hope fid com- thou hast been heretofore. Apollyon could not 
 forts him again, crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or 
 former things to see, or feel in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou 
 already gone through, and art thou now nothing but fear ? 
 Thou seest that I am in the Dungeon with thee, a far weaker 
 man by nature than thou art : also this Giant has wounded 
 me as well as thee, and hath also cut of the Bread and Water 
 from my mouth ; and with thee I mourn without the light : 
 but lets exercise a little more patience. Remember how 
 thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither 
 afraid of the Chain nor Cage nor yet of bloody Death : 
 wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, that becomes 
 not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as 
 well as we can. 
 
 Now night being come again, and the Giant and his Wife 
 being in bed, she asked him concerning the Prisoners, and if 
 they had taken his counsel : To which he replied, They arc 
 sturdy Rogues, they chuse rather to bear all hardship than to 
 make 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 dispatched ; and make them 
 
THE KEY CALLED PROMISE 145 
 
 believe, e're a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them 
 in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. 
 
 So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them 
 again, and takes them into the Castle-yard, and shews them 
 as his Wife had bidden him. These, said he, On Saturday 
 
 -rj.-i T . , the Giant 
 
 were Jrilgrims as you are, once, and they tres- threatned t that 
 
 passed in my grounds as you have done ; and 
 when I thought fit, I tore them in pieces ; pieces. 
 and so within ten days I will do you. Go 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 lament- 
 able case, as before. Now when night was come, and when 
 Mrs. Diffidence and her Husband, the Giant, were got to bed, 
 they began to renew their discourse of their Prisoners : and 
 withal, the old Giant wondered, that he could neither by his 
 blows, nor 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 pick-locks 
 about them ; by the means of which they hope to escape. 
 And, sayest thou so, my dear ? said the Giant, I will there- 
 fore 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, ^ Key in 
 What a fool, quoth he, am I thus to lie in a &"**&* \ 
 
 " ' bosom called \ 
 
 stinking Dungeon, when I may as well walk at Promise, opens \ 
 liberty ! I have a Key in my bosom, called Doubting * ' / 
 Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any 
 Lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good 
 news ; good Brother pluck it out of thy bosom and try. 
 
 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 
 
J46 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door 
 that leads into the Castle yard, and with his Key opened the 
 door also. After he went to the Iron Gate, for that must be 
 opened too, but that Lock went damnable hard, yet the Key 
 did open it ; then they thrust open the Gate to make their 
 escape with speed, but that Gate, as it opened, made such 
 a 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 high-way 
 again, and so were safe, because they were out of his 
 Jurisdiction. 
 
 Now when they were gone over the Stile, they began to 
 contrive with themselves what they should do at that Stile, 
 to prevent those that should come after, from falling into the 
 
 A Pillar erected ^ an( ^ s ^ Giant Despair. So they consented 
 by Christian to erect there a Pillar, and to engrave upon 
 the side thereof Over this Stile is the Way to 
 Doubting-Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who de~ 
 spiseth the King of the Ccelestial Country., and seeks to destroy 
 his holy Pilgrims. Many therefore that followed after, read 
 what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they 
 sang as follows. 
 
 Out of the way we went, and then ice found 
 What "'twas to tread upon forbidden ground : 
 And let them that come after have a care, 
 Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare : 
 Lest they, for trespassing, his jwisoners arc* 
 Whose Castle's Doubting, and whose uame^s Despair. 
 
 *^, 
 
 They went then, till they came to the Delectable Moun- 
 
 The delectable tains, which Mountains belong to the Lord of 
 mountains, that Hil ] ? o f ^j^ we } mve S p O k en before; so 
 
TALK WITH THE SHEPHERDS 
 
 they went up to the Mountains, to behold the Garde - 
 Orchards, the Vineyards, and Fountains of water ; wht 
 they drank, and washed themselves, and did 2^ are re _ 
 freely eat of the Vineyards. Now there was on freshed in the 
 
 * . . , i r v mountains. 
 
 the tops oi these Mountains shepherds reeding 
 their flocks, and they stood by the high-way side 1 . The 
 Pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their 
 staves, (as is common with weary Pilgrims, when they stand 
 to talk with any by the way,) they asked, Whose Ta j k with (he 
 delectable Mountains are these? and whose be Shepherds. 
 the sheep that feed upon them ? 
 
 SHEP. These Mountains are ImmanueTs Land, and they are 
 within sight of his City, and the sheep also are his, and he 
 laid down his life for them. 
 
 CHR. Is this the way to the Ccelestial City? 
 
 SHEP. You are just in your way. 
 
 CHR. How far is it thither? 
 
 SHEP. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed. 
 
 CHR. Is the way safe, or dangerous? 
 
 SHEP. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe, but trans- 
 gressors shall fall therein. 
 
 CHR. Is there in this place any relief for Pilgrims that are 
 weary and faint in the way ? 
 
 SHEP. The Lord of these Mountains hath given us a 
 charge, Not to be forgetful to entertain strangers : Therefore 
 the good of the place is even before you. 
 
 I saw also in my Dream, that when the Shepherds perceived 
 that they were way-faring men, they also put questions to 
 them, (to which they made answer as in other places,) as, 
 Whence came you ? and, How got you into the way ? and, 
 
 1 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. 
 
 G 
 
148 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 By what means have you so persevered therein ? For but 
 few of them that begin to come hither, do shew their face 
 on these Mountains. But when the Shepherds heard their 
 answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly 
 The shepherds upon them ; and said, Welcome to the delectable 
 
 welcome them. Mountains. 
 
 The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, 
 -true Names of Experience, Watchful, and Sincere, took them 
 the shepherds. by the hand, and had them to their Tents, and 
 made them partake of that which was ready at present. 
 They said moreover, We would that you should stay here 
 a while, to be acquainted with us, and yet more to solace 
 yourselves with the good of these delectable Mountains. 
 They told them, That they were content to stay ; and so they 
 went to their rest that night, because it was very late. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream that in the morning the Shep- 
 herds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon 
 the Mountains. So they went forth with them, and w r alked 
 a while, having a pleasant prospect on every side. Then said 
 They are shewn the Shepherds one to another, Shall we shew 
 wonders. these Pilgrims some wonders ? So when they 
 
 had concluded to do it, they had them first to the top of an 
 The Mountain Hill called Error, which was very steep on the 
 of Error. furthest side, and bid them look down to 
 
 the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful lookt 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 ? They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, 
 Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this 
 Mountain, are they: and they have continued to this day 
 unburied (as you see) for an example to others to take heed 
 
WANDERERS OUT OF THE WAY 149 
 
 how they clamber too high, or how they come too near the 
 brink of this Mountain. 
 
 Then I saw that they had them to the top of another 
 Mountain, and the name of that is Caution ; and Mount Caution. 
 bid them look afar off. Which when they did, they perceived 
 as they thought, several men walking up and down among the 
 Tombs that were there. And they perceived that the men 
 were blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the Tombs, 
 and because they could not get out from among them. 
 Then said Christian, What means this? 
 
 The Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little 
 below these Mountains a Stile that led into a Meadow on 
 the left hand of this way ? They answered, Yes. Then said 
 the Shepherds, From that Stile there goes a path that leads 
 directly to Doubting- Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair 
 and these men (pointing to them among the Tombs) came 
 once on Pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that 
 same Stile. And because the right way was rough in that 
 place, they chose to go out of it into that Meadow, and there 
 were taken by Giant Despair , and cast into Doubting- C astle ; 
 where, after they had a while been kept in the Dungeon, he 
 at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those 
 Tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day ; 
 that the saying of the wise Man might be fulfilled, He that 
 wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the 
 Congregation of the dead. Then Christian and Hopeful looked 
 one upon another, with tears gushing out ; but yet said 
 nothing to the Shepherds. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that the Shepherds had them 
 to another place, in a bottom, where was a door in the side 
 of an Hill ; and they opened the door, and bid them look in. 
 They looked in therefore, and saw that within it was very 
 dark, and smoaky ; they also thought that they heard there 
 a rumbling noise as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and 
 
150 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 that they smelt the scent of Brimstone. Then said Christian, 
 A by-way to What means tins? The Shepherds told them, 
 Hel1 - saying, this is a By-way to Hell, a way that 
 
 Hypocrites go in at ; namely, such as sell their Birth-right, 
 with Esau : such as sell their Master, with Judas : such as 
 blaspheme the Gospel, with Alexander: and that lie ai^d 
 dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife. 
 
 HOPE. Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, / perceive that 
 these had on them, even every one, a shew of Pilgrimage as we 
 have noiv ; had they not ? 
 
 SHEP. Yes, and held it a long time too. 
 
 HOPE. How far might they go on Pilgrimage in their day, 
 since they notwithstanding were thus miserably cast away ? 
 
 SHEP. Some further, and some not so far as these 
 Mountains. 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims one to another, We had need cry 
 to the Strong for strength. 
 
 SHEP. Av, and you will have need to use it when you have 
 
 . ' j ' 
 
 it, too. 
 
 By this time the Pilgrims had a desire to go forwards, and 
 the Shepherds a desire they should ; so they walked together 
 towards the end of the Mountains. Then said the Shepherds 
 one to another, Let us here shew to the Pilgrims the Gates of 
 The, She herds ^ e Ccelestial City, if they have skill to look 
 Perspective- through our Perspective Glass. The Pilgrims 
 then lovingly accepted the motion : so they 
 The Hill clear, had them to the top of an high Hill, called Clear, 
 and gave them their Glass to look. Then they essayed to 
 look, but the remembrance of that last thing that the 
 Shepherds had shewed them made their hand shake, by 
 The fruit of means of which impediment they could not 
 slavish fear. i oo k s t ea dily through the Glass; yet they 
 thought they saw something like the Gate, and also some of 
 the Glory of the place. 
 
THE BRISK LAD IGNORANCE 151 
 
 Thus by the Shepherds, Secrets are revealed. 
 Which from all other men are kept conceaTd: 
 Come to the Shepherds then, if you would see 
 Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be. 
 When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds 
 gave them a note of the way, Another of them bid ^ two-fold 
 them beware of the Jlatterer, The third, bid them caution - 
 take heed that they sleep not upon the Inchanted 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 
 Pilgrims going down the Mountains along the High-way 
 towards the City. Now a little below these Mountains, on 
 the left hand, lieth the Country of Conceit, from The Country of 
 which Country there comes into the way in ^ceit.wt 
 
 J J of ic Inch, came 
 
 which the Pilgrims walked, a little crooked ignorance. 
 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? 
 
 IGN. Sir, I was born in the Country that lieth Christian and 
 off there, a little on the left hand ; and I am ignorance hath 
 
 . . . . some talk. 
 
 going to the Celestial City. 
 
 CHR. But how do you think to get in at the Gate, for you 
 may Jind some difficulty there ? 
 
 IGN. As other good People do, said he. 
 
 CHR. But what have you to shew at that Gate, that may 
 cause that the Gate should be opened to you ? 
 
 IGN. I know my Lords will, and I have been a good liver, 
 I pay every man his own ; I Pray, East, pay ^ ^^ Qf 
 Tithes, and give Alms, and have left my Country ignorances 
 for whither I am going. 
 
 CHR. But thou earnest not in at the Wicket-Gate, that is at 
 the head of this way ; thou earnest in hither through that same 
 
 7 i. 
 
152 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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. 
 
 IGX. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you 
 He saith to no ^ ' ^ e con tent to follow the Religion of your 
 
 every one that Country, and I will follow the Religion of 
 mine. I hope all will be well. And as for 
 the Gate that you talk of, all the World knows that 
 that is a great way off of our Country. I cannot think 
 that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way 
 to it ; nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we 
 have, as you see, a fine pleasant green Lane, that comes down 
 from our Country the next way into it. 
 
 When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own 
 conceit, he said to Hopeful whisperingly, There is more hopes 
 of a fool than of him. And said moreover When he that is 
 HOW to carry a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth 
 him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool. 
 What, shall we talk further with him ? or out-go him at 
 present ? and so leave him to think of what he hath heard 
 already ; and then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by 
 degrees we can do any good of him ? Then said Hopeful : 
 
 Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
 On what is said, and let him not refuse 
 Good Counsel to imbrace, lest he remain 
 Still Ignorant of what^s the chiefest gain. 
 God saith, Those that no understanding have 
 (Although he made them) them he will not sarr. 
 
 HOPE. He further added, It is not good, I think, 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 
 
A STORY OF LITTLE-FAITH 
 
 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 in the side of the Hill. 
 Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did Hopeful 
 his Companion : yet as the Devils led away the man, Christian 
 looked to see if he knew him, and he thought it might be one 
 
 ' O O 
 
 Turn-away that dwelt in the Town of Apostacy. Th&d 
 But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did of one Tia-n- 
 hang his head like a Thief that is found. But 
 being gone past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his 
 back a Paper with this Inscription, Wanton Professor, and 
 damnable Apostate. Then said Christian to his Fellow, Now 
 I call to remembrance that which was told me 
 
 Christian 
 
 of a thing that happened to a good man here- tdietn MS 
 
 i rrn j n r j it Companion 
 
 about. Ine name or the man was LtfMe-JP own, a story of 
 
 but a good man, and he dwelt in the Town of 
 Sincere. The thing was this ; at the entering in of this 
 passage there comes down from Broad-way-gate Broad-way- 
 a Lane called Dead-man 's-lane ; so called, be- ^ad-m-an's 
 cause of the Murders that are commonly done Lane - 
 there. And this Little-Faith going on Pilgrimage, as we do 
 now, chanced to sit down there and slept. Now there happened, 
 at that time, to come down that Lane from Broad-way-gate 
 three Sturdy Rogues, and their names were Faint-heart, Mis- 
 trust, and Guilt, (three brothers) and they espying Little- 
 Faith where he was, came galloping up with speed. Now the 
 good man was just awaked from his sleep, and was getting 
 up to go on his Journey. So they came all up to him, and 
 with threatening Language bid him stand. At Little-Faith 
 this, Little faith lookt as white as a Clout, and rob ^ ed 6 # 
 had neither power to fight nor fly. Then said Mistrust, and 
 Faint-heart, Deliver thy Purse ; but he making 
 no haste to do it, (for he was loth to lose his Money,) 
 
154 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into his 
 They got away Pocket, pulPd out thence a bag of Silver. Then 
 he cried out > Thieves, thieves. With that, 
 Guilt with a great Club that was in his hand, 
 strook Little-Faith on the head, and with that blow felFd 
 him flat to the ground, where he lay bleeding as one that 
 would bleed to death. All this while the Thieves stood by : 
 but at last, they hearing that some were upon the Road, and 
 fearing lest it should be one Great-grace that dwells in the 
 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? 
 
 CHU. No : the place where his Jewels were, 
 
 Little-Faith * 
 
 lost not nis best they never ransack a, so those he kept still ; but 
 as, I was told, the good man was much afflicted 
 for his loss. For the Thieves got most of his spending 
 Money. That which they got not (as I said) were Jewels, 
 also he had a little odd Money left, but scarce enough to 
 bring him to his Journeys end ; nay, (if I was not mis- 
 informed) he was forced to beg as he went, to 
 kec P himself alive, (for his Jewels he might 
 not sell.) But beg, and do what he could, he 
 went (as we say) with many a hungry belly, the most part of 
 the rest of the way. 
 
 HOPE. But is it not a wonder they got not from him hi* 
 Certificate, Inj which he was to receive his admittance at the 
 Ca'lestial gate ? 
 
 CHK. 'Tis a wonder, but they got not that : though they 
 7/6 kept n-jt his mist it not through any good cunning of his, 
 ^awn 1 ** 8 * f r ^ e being dismayed with their coming upon 
 Cunning. him, had neither power nor skill to hide any 
 
LITTLE-FAITHS JEWELS 155 
 
 thing : so 'twas more by good Providence than by his 
 endeavour, that they mist of that good thing. 
 
 HOPK. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that they got 
 not this Jewel from him. 
 
 CHR. It might have been great comfort to him, had he 
 used it as he should ; but they that told me the story, said, 
 That he made but little use of it all the rest of the way ; and 
 that because of the dismay that he had in their taking away 
 of his Money : indeed he forgot it a great part of the rest 
 of the 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. 
 
 HOPE. Alas poor Man! this could not but be He is pitied ~by 
 a great grief unto him. both - 
 
 CHR. 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 ? "Tis 
 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 
 over-took him, or that he over-took in the way as he went, 
 where he was robbed, and how ; who they were that did it, 
 and what he lost ; how he was wounded, and that he hardly 
 escaped with life. 
 
 HOPI:. But "'tis a wonder that his necessities did not put him 
 upon selling, or pawning some of his Jewels, that he might have 
 wherewith to relieve himself in his Journey. 
 
 CHR. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the Shell 
 to this very day : For what should he pawn Christian 
 them ? or to whom should he sell them ? In mibbeth his 
 all that Country where he w r as Robbed, his unadvised 
 Jewels were not accounted of, nor did he want 
 that relief which could from thence be administred to him ; 
 
156 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 besides, had his Jewels been missing at the Gate of the 
 Ccelestial City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been 
 excluded from an Inheritance there ; and that would have 
 been worse to him than the appearance and villany of ten 
 thousand Thieves. 
 
 HOPE. Why art thou so tart my Brother? Esau sold his 
 Birth-right, and that for a mess of Pottage ; and that Birth- 
 right was his greatest Jewel ; and if he, why might not Little- 
 Faith do so too ? 
 
 CHU. Emu did sell his Birth-right indeed, and so do many 
 besides ; and by so doing, exclude themselves 
 
 about Esau and from the chief blessing, as also that Crt^^'did. 
 Little-Faith. ^^ you nmst ft Difference betwixt Esau 
 
 and Little-faith, and also betwixt their Estates. Esaiis 
 Birth-right was typical, but Little-faith? s Jewels were not so. 
 Esau was ruled Esans belly was his God, but Little -faitlis bellv 
 by Jus lust. was no j. so Esaiis 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, For I am at the 
 point to die, said he, and what good will this Birth-right do 
 me? But Little-faith, though it was his lot to have 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 
 
 Esau never had sel1 them > as Esau did his Birth-right. You 
 
 f aith - read not any where that Esau had faith, no not 
 
 so much as a little. Therefore no marvel, if where the flesh 
 only bears sway (as it will in that Man where no faith is to 
 resist) if he sells his Birth-right, and his Soul and all, and 
 that to the Devil of Hell ; for it is with such, as it is with 
 the Ass, Who in her occasions cannot be turned away. \Yhcn 
 their minds are set upon their Lusts, they will have them 
 Little-Faith whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of 
 wponEsaus another temper, his mind was on things Divine; 
 Pottage. hi >s livelihood was upon things that were 
 
HOPEFUL SWAGGERS 157 
 
 Spiritual, and from above. Therefore to what end should 
 he that is of such a temper sell his Jewels, (had there been 
 any that would have bought them) to fill his mind with 
 empty things ? Will a man give a penny to iill his belly 
 with hay ? or can you perswade the Turtle-dove A comparison 
 to live upon Carrion, like the Crow ? Though *$ 
 faithless ones, can for carnal Lusts, pawn, or and tlie c >' ow - 
 mortgage, or sell what they have, and themselves outright to 
 boot ; yet they that have faith, saving-faith, though but 
 a little of it, cannot do so. Here therefore, my Brother, is 
 thy mistake. 
 
 HOPE. / acknowledge it ; but yet your severe reflection had 
 almost made me angry. 
 
 CHU. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the Birds 
 that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in trodden 
 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. 
 
 HOPK. But Christian, These three fellows, I am perswaded 
 in my heart, are but a company of Cowards : would they have 
 run else, think you, as they did, at the noise of one that was 
 coming on the road ? Why did not Little- Faith Hopeful 
 pluck up a greater heart ? He might, methinks, swa v<J ers - 
 have stood one brush with them, and have yielded when there 
 was no remedy. 
 
 CHU. That they are Cowards, many have said, but few 
 have found it so in the time of Trial. As for NO great heart 
 a great heart, Little-faith had none ; and I per- {^^ l i^ here 
 ceive by thee, my brother, hadst thou been the uttie faith. 
 Man concerned, thou art but for a brush, and we have more 
 then to yield. And verily, since this fc the ^XtL 
 height of thy Stomach now they are at a distance we a><& in - 
 from us, should they appear to thee, as they did to him, they 
 might put thee to second thoughts. 
 
158 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 roar- 
 'ing of a Lion. I myself have been engaged as 
 this Little-faith was, and I found it a terrible 
 this case. 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 cloathed with Armour of proof. Ay, and yet though 
 I was so harnessed, I found it hard work to quit myself like 
 a man ; no man can tell what in that Combat attends us, but 
 he that hath been in the Battle himself. 
 
 HOPE. Well., but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose 
 that one Great-grace was in the way. 
 
 CHR. True, they have often fled, both they and their 
 Master, when Great-grace hath but appeared, and no marvel, 
 The Kings fnr hr injjAr ff iiiff 1 f Cham/pjon^. But I tro, you 
 
 Champion. w jjj p u -|. some difference between Little-faith 
 
 and the Kings Champion ; all the King's Subjects are not 
 his Champions : nor can they, when tried, do such feats of 
 War as he. Is it meet to think that a little child should 
 handle Goliah as David did ? or that there should be the 
 strength of an Ox in a Wren ? Some are strong, some are 
 weak, some have great faith, some have little : this man was 
 one of the weak, and therefore he went to the walls. 
 
 HOPE. / would it had been Great-grace, for their sakes. 
 
 CHR. If it had been he, he might have had his hands full. 
 For I must tell you, That though Great-grace is excellent 
 good at his Weapons, and has and can, so long as he keeps 
 them at Sword's point, do well enough with them : yet if 
 they get within him, even Faint-heart., J//.s7/v/,s7, or the other, 
 it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when 
 a man is down, you know what can lie do. 
 
THE KINGS CHAMPION 159 
 
 Whoso looks well upon Great-grace* s face, shall see those 
 Scars and Cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of 
 what I say. Yea once I heard he should say, (and that when 
 he was in the Combat) We despaired even of life : How did 
 these sturdy Rogues and their Fellows make David groan, 
 mourn, and roar ? Yea, Heman, and Hezekiah too, though 
 Champions in their day, were forced to bestir them, when by 
 these assaulted ; and yet, that notwithstanding, they had their 
 Coats soundly brushed by them. Peter upon a time would go 
 try what he could do ; but, though some do say of him that 
 he is the Prince of the Apostles, they handled him so, that 
 they made him at last afraid of a sorry Girl. 
 
 Besides, their King is at their Whistle, he is never out of 
 hearing ; and if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if 
 possible, comes in to help them. And of him Leviathans 
 it is said, The Sword of him that layeth at him *turdiness. 
 cannot hold the Spear, the Dart, nor the Habergeon. He 
 esteemeth Iron as Straw, and Brass as rotten Wood. The 
 Arrow cannot make him flie. Slingstones are turned with 
 him into stubble, Darts are counted as stubble, he laugheth at 
 the shaking of a Spear. What can a man do in this case? 
 'Tis true, if a man could at every turn have The excellent 
 Job's Horse, and had skill and courage to ride mettle that is in 
 him, he might do notable things. For his 
 neck is clothed with Thunder, he will not be afraid as the 
 Grashopper, the glory of his Nostrils is terrible, he paweth in 
 the Valley, rejoyceth in his strength, and goeth out to meet the 
 armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither 
 turneth back from the Sword. The quiver rattleth against 
 him, the glittering Spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the 
 ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth he that it is 
 the sound of the Trumpet. He saith among the Trumpets, 
 Ha, ha ; and he smelleth the Battel afar off, the thundring of 
 the Captains, and the shoutings. 
 
160 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 High-way, two things become us to do ; first to go 
 out Harnessed, and to be sure to take a Shield with us. For it 
 was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan 
 could not make him yield. For indeed, if that be wanting, 
 lie fears us not at all. Therefore he that had skill, hath said, 
 Above all take the Shield of Fojth, wherewith ye shall be able 
 to quench all the fierif darts of the wicked. 
 
 "Tis good also that we desire of the King a Convoy, yea 
 TisgoodtoJiave that he will go with us himself. This made 
 a Convoy. David rejoyce when in the Valley of the Shadow 
 
 of Death ; and Moses was rather for dying where he stood, 
 than to ;o one step without his God. O mv Brother, if he 
 
 Cl ' 
 
 will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten 
 thousands that shall set themselves against us, but without 
 him, the proud helpers fall under the slain. 
 
 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. Glad shall I be, 
 if I meet with no more such brunts, though I fear we are not 
 got beyond all danger. However, since the I, ion and the 
 Bear hath not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also 
 deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. 
 
 Poor Little-faith ! Hast been among the Thieves ? 
 Wast robb"d! Remember this* Who so believes 
 
THE PILGRIMS TAKEN IN A NET 1(51 
 
 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 A way and 
 straight as the way which they should go ; and a way - 
 here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed 
 straight before them ; therefore here they stood still to con- 
 sider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold 
 a man black of flesh, but covered with a very The flatterer 
 light Robe, came to them and asked them, Why ^ nds tnpm - 
 they stood there ? They answered, They were going to the 
 Coelestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. 
 Follow me, said the man, it is thither that I am going. So \ 
 they followed him in the way that but now 
 
 J t J Christ ion and 
 
 came into the road, which by degrees turned, MS fellow 
 and turned them so from the City that they 
 desired to go to, that in little time their faces were turned 
 away from it ; yet they followed him. But by and by, before 
 they were aware, he led them both within the They arc, taken 
 compass of a Net, in which they were both so m a Net - 
 entangled that they knew not what to do ; and with that, the 
 white robe fell off the black mans back ; then they saw where 
 they were. Wherefore there they lay crying sometime, for 
 they could not get themselves out. 
 
 CHR. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see my 
 self in an error. Did not the Shepherds bid us nej/ b ewa u 
 beware of the flatterers? As is the saying of t^r conditions. 
 
 the Wise man, so we have found it this day: A man that 
 
 . 
 
 fattereth his Neighbour, spreadeth a Net for his feet. 
 
 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 
 
162 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Paths of the destroyer. Here David was wiser than we ; 
 for saith lie, Concerning the works of men, by tlie word of thy 
 lij)$, 1 hare kept me from the Paths of the destroyer. Thus they 
 A shining one lay bewailing themselves in the Net. At last 
 wt^aVj^in H ie y espied a shining One coming towards them, 
 ins hand with a whip of small cord in his hand. When 
 
 he was come to the place where they were, He asked them 
 whence they came ? and what they did there ? They told 
 him, That they were poor Pilgrims going to Sion, but were 
 led out of their way, by a black man, cloathed 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. So 
 he rent the Net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, 
 Follow me, that I may set you in your way again ; so he led 
 them back to the way, which they had left to follow the 
 They are Flatterer. Then he asked them, saying, Where 
 
 did y u lie the last ni s ht ? The y said > with the 
 
 Shepherds upon the delectable Mountains. He 
 asked them then, If they had not of them Shepherds a note of 
 direction for the way ? They answered, Yes. But did you, 
 said he, when you was at a stand, pluck out and read your 
 note ? They answered, No. He asked them why ? They said 
 they forgot. He asked, moreover, If the Shepherds did 
 Deceivers fine n t bid them beware of the Flatterer? They 
 spoken. answered, Yes ; But we did not imagine, said 
 
 they, that this fine-spoken man had been he. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that he commanded them to lie 
 down ; which when they did, he chastised them sore, to teach 
 them the good way wherein they should walk ; and as he chas- 
 tised them, he said, As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten , 
 'They are whipt ^ }e ^ ea ^ ous therefore, and repent. This done, he 
 an'iKcnton bids them go on their way, and take good heed 
 
 to the other directions of the Shepherds. So 
 
REASONING WITH ATHEIST 163 
 
 they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along 
 the right way. 
 
 Come hither, you that walk along the way ; 
 
 See how the Pilgrims fare, that go astray! 
 
 They catched are in an mtangling Net, 
 
 * Cause tlieij good Counsel lightly did forget : 
 
 ''Tis true, they resciid were, but yet you see 
 
 They're scourged to loot : Let this your caution be. 
 
 Now after a while, they perceived afar off, one coming 
 softly and alone, all along the High-way to meet them. Then 
 said Christian to his fellow, Yonder is a man with his back 
 toward Sion, and he is coming to meet us. 
 
 HOPE. I see him, let us take heed to ourselves now, lest 
 he should prove a Flatterer also. So he drew nearer and 
 nearer, and at last came up unto them. His The Atheist 
 name was Atheist, and he asked them whither meets them. 
 they were going ? 
 
 CHR. We are going to the Mount Sion. 
 
 Then Atheist fell into a very great Laugh- ii e Laughs at 
 ter. them - 
 
 CHR. Wliat 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 yet are like to have 
 nothing but your travel for your pains. 
 
 CHR. Why man? Do you think we shall not They reason 
 be received ? to ^ her 
 
 ATHEIST. Received ! There is no such place as you Dream 
 of, in all this World. 
 
 CHR. But there is in the World to come. 
 
 ATHEIST. When I was at home in mine own Country 
 I heard as -you now affirm, and, from that hearing went out 
 to see, and have been seeking this City this twenty years : 
 but find no more of it, than I did the first day I set out. 
 
164 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. We have both heard and believe that there is such 
 a place to be found. 
 
 ATHEIST. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not 
 come thus far to seek. But finding none, (and yet I should, 
 The Atheist had there been such a place to be found, for 
 
 ^nunvus I have g ne to seek ft further than you) I am 
 World. g oni g back again, and will seek to refresh myself 
 
 with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that 
 which I now see is not. 
 Christian CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful his 
 
 Tprovetli, his 
 
 Brother. Fellow, /? it true which this man hath said? 
 
 HOPF.. Take heed, he is one of the Flatterers , remember 
 
 no * fids what it hath cost us once already for our 
 
 gracious harkning to such kind of Fellows. What ! no 
 
 ciTis j wcy 
 
 Mount Sio?i ! Did we not see from the delectable 
 A remembrance Mountains the Gate of the City ? Also, are 
 
 of former chas- , n l, T7 -xl o V i. 
 
 foments is an we n t now to walk by raith r .Let us go on, 
 
 help against sa { c ] Hopeful l es t the man with the Whip 
 
 present tempta- 
 tions, overtakes us again. 
 
 O 
 
 You should have taught me that Lesson, which I will round 
 you in the ears withal ; Cease., my son^ to hear the Instruction 
 that eanseth to err from the words of knowledge. I say, my 
 Brother, cease to hear him, and let us believe to the savin"; of 
 
 o 
 
 the Soul. 
 
 CHR. My Brother, I did not put the question to thee* for 
 A fruit of an that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself: 
 bnt to prove thee, and to fetch from thec a fruit 
 of the honesty of thy heart. As for this man* I know that he 
 is blinded by the god of this World: Let thec and I go on, 
 knowing that we have belief of the Truth, dud no lie is of the 
 Truth. 
 
 HOPE. Now do I re Joyce in the hope of the Glory of God : 
 So they turned away from the man ; and he, laughing at 
 them, went his way. 
 
THE INCHANTED GROUND 165 
 
 I saw then in my Dream, that they went till they came 
 into a certain Country, whose Air naturally 
 
 J* J They are come 
 
 tended to make one drowsy, if he came totheinchamted 
 
 ftVCltfY} (1 
 
 a stranger into it. And here Hopeful began 
 
 to be very dull and heavy of sleep, wherefore nope fni begins 
 
 he said unto 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. 
 
 CHR. By no means, said the other, lest sleeping, Christian iceeps 
 we never awake more. him awajce - 
 
 HOPE. Why my Brother ? sleep is sweet to the Labouring 
 man ; we may be refreshed if we take a Nap. 
 
 CHR. Do yon not remember that one of the Shepherds Lid us 
 beware of the Inchanted ground? He meant by that, that we 
 should beware of sleeping ; wherefore let ns not sleep as do 
 others, but let us watch and be sober. 
 
 HOPE. I acknowledge myself in a fault, and had I been 
 here alone, I had by sleeping run the danger of 
 
 , . . . J & , . b . , He is thankful 
 
 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. 
 
 CHR. Now then, said Christian, to prevent TO prevent 
 drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good /Mtogood ^ 
 discourse. discourse. 
 
 HOPE. With all my heart, said the other. 
 
 CHR. Where shall we begin ? Good discottr8e 
 
 o ^ prevents 
 
 HOPE. Where God began with us. But do droivsiness. 
 you begin, if you please. 
 
 When Saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, The Dreamers 
 And hear how these two Pilgrims talk together : note " 
 Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise, 
 Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumbering eyes. 
 Saints' 1 fellowship, if it be managd well, 
 Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. 
 
166 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Then Christian began and said, / will ask you a 
 They begin at question. How came yon to think at first of 
 
 sion - 
 
 
 HOPE. Do you mean, How came I at first to_ 
 look after the good of myJSnnl.2 
 
 CHR. Yes, that is my meaning. 
 
 HOPE. I continued a great while in the delight of those 
 things which were seen and sold at our fair ; things which, 
 as I believe now, would have (had I continued in them still) 
 drowned me in perdition and destruction. 
 
 CHR. What things were they ? 
 
 HOPE. All the Treasures and Riches of the World. Also 
 I delighted much in Rioting, Revelling, Drink- 
 
 HopefuVg . . 
 
 be/ore ing, Swearing, .Lying, Uncleanness, Sabbath- 
 
 breaking, and what not, that tended to destroy 
 the Soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering 
 of things that are Divine, which indeed I heard of you, 
 as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for his 
 Faith and good-living in Vanity-fair, That the end of these 
 tilings is death. And thatjfor these things' 1 sake, the ivrath 
 of God cometh upon the children of disobedience. 
 
 CHR. And did yon presently fall under the power of this 
 conviction ? 
 
 HOPE. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of 
 Hopeful at first sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the 
 commission of it, but endeavoured, when my 
 mind at first began to be shaken with the word, 
 to shut mine eyes against the light thereof. 
 
 CHR. But what was the cause of your earn/ing of it thus to 
 the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you ? 
 
 HOPE. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was 
 the work of God upon me. I never thought 
 
 Reasons of his t L 
 
 resistingof that, by awakenings for sin, God at first begins 
 
 1 i , ' O o 
 
 the conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet 
 
HOPEFULS SENSE OF SIN 167 
 
 very sweet to my flesh, and I was loth to leave it. 3. I 
 could not tell how to part with mine old Companions ; 
 their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 
 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such 
 troublesome and such heart-affrighting hours, that I could 
 not bear, no not so much as the remembrance of them upon 
 my heart. 
 
 CHR. Then as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble. 
 
 HOPE. Yes 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 again. 
 
 HOPE. Many things, as, 
 
 1. If I did but meet a good man in the 
 
 o When he had 
 
 Streets ; or, lost '' sense of 
 
 2. If I have heard any read in the Bible ; or, brought it 
 
 3. If mine Head did begin to Ake ; or, adain ' 
 
 4. If I were told that some of my Neighbors were sick ; 
 or, 
 
 5. If I heard the Bell toll for some that were dead ; or, 
 
 6. If I thought of dying myself ; or, 
 
 7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others. 
 
 8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must 
 quickly come to Judgment. 
 
 CHR. And could you at any time with ease get ojf the guilt 
 of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon you ? 
 
 HOPE. No, not latterly, for then they got faster hold of my 
 Conscience. And then, if I did but think of going back to 
 sin (though my mind was turned against it) it would be 
 double torment to me. 
 
 CHR. And hozv did you do then? 
 
 HOPE. I thought I must endeavour to mend when he could 
 
 my life, for else thought I, I am sure to be " 
 damned. s 
 
 t 
 
 CHR. And did you endeavour to mend ? vours to mend. 
 
 
 
168 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 HOPE. Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, but sinful 
 Company too ; and betook me to Religious Duties, as Pray- 
 ing, Reading, weeping for Sin, speaking Truth to my Neigh- 
 bors, etc. These things I did, with many others, too much 
 here to relate. 
 
 CHII. And did you think yourself well then ? 
 HOPE. Yes, for a while ; but at the last my trouble came 
 he thought tumbling upon me again, and that over the 
 well. neck of ftU my Reformations. 
 
 CHII. How came that about, since you ictts uow Re- 
 formed ? 
 
 HOPE. There were several things brought it upon me, 
 Reformation at especially such sayings as these ; All our right- 
 last could not eons nesses are as filthy rags. By the works of 
 
 help, and why. . T 7 77 7, .// TT// 
 
 the Law no man shall be justijiea. When you 
 have done all things, say, zee are unprofitable: with many 
 more the like. From whence I began to reason with my 
 self thus : If all my righteousnesses are filthy rags, if by 
 the deeds of the Law, no man can be justified; And if, 
 when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable : Then 
 7/*v being a 'tis but a folly to think of Heaven by the Law. 
 STrXfod T further thought thus : If a Man runs an 100/. 
 him - into the Shop-keeper's debt, and after that 
 
 shall pay for all that he shall fetch ; yet his old debt stands 
 still in the Book uncrossed, for the which the Shop-keeper 
 may sue him, and cast him into Prison till he shall pay 
 the debt. 
 
 CHU. 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 God's Book, and that my now 
 reforming will not pay oft' 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 ? 
 
THE WAY TO BE SAVED 169 
 
 CHR. A very good application : but pray go on. 
 
 HOPE. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my 
 late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly His espying bad 
 into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, JJS5* 
 new sin, mixing itself with the best of that I do. troubled him. 
 So that now I am forced to conclude, that notwithstanding 
 my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have com- 
 mitted sin enough in one duty to send me to Hell, though 
 my former life had been faultless. 
 
 CHR. And what did you do then ? 
 
 HOPE. Do ! I could not tell what to do, till I brake my 
 mind to Faithful; for he and I were well ac- This made him 
 quainted : And he told me, That unless I could ^MjS^ 
 obtain the righteousness of a man that never v ' h told him 
 
 11- i ... . n .1 i a the it-ay to be 
 
 had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the right- saved. 
 eousness of the World could save me. 
 
 CHR. And did you think he spake true ? 
 
 HOPE. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied 
 with mine own amendments, I had called him Eool for his 
 pains : but now, since I see my own infirmity, and the sin 
 that cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced to be 
 of his opinion. 
 
 CHR. But did you think, when atjirst 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 At ll ' hich he 
 
 i T -I i j 11 started at 
 
 him, I had full conviction about it. present. 
 
 CHR. And did you ask him what man this was, and how yon 
 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 : A more par- 
 and thus, said he, you must be justified by ^^ of "the 
 him, even by trusting to what he hath done K ' a u to be saved. 
 
170 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 justify 
 another before God ? And he told me, He was the mighty 
 God, and did what he did, and died the death also, not for 
 himself, but for me ; to whom his doings, and the worthiness 
 of them should be imputed, if I believed on him. 
 
 CHR. And what did you do then ? 
 
 lie doubt* of HOPK. I made my objections against my be- 
 
 acceptation. lieviiiff, for that I thought he was not willing 
 
 O' O O 
 
 to save me. 
 
 CHK. And what said Faithful to you then ? 
 
 HOPE. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said, It wa* 
 presumption : but he said, No ; for I was invited to come. 
 He is utter Then he gave me a Book of Jesus his inditing, 
 to encourage me the more freely to come. And 
 he said concerning that Book, That every jot and tittle 
 thereof stood firmer than Heaven and earth. Then I asked 
 him, What I must do when I came ? and he told me, I must 
 entreat upon my knees, with all my heart and soul, the 
 Father to reveal him to me. Then I asked him further, 
 How I must make my supplication to him ? And he said, 
 Go, and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where he 
 sits all the year long, to give pardon and forgiveness to them 
 that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when 
 He is bid to I came : and he bid me say to this effect, God 
 P ray - be merciful to me a sinner, and make me. to 
 
 know and believe in Jesus Christ for I see that if his 
 righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteous- 
 ness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard that thou 
 art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus 
 Christ should be the Saviour of the World; and moreover, that 
 thou art willing' to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am, 
 (and I am a sinner indeed) Lord take therefore t/iis oppor- 
 
CHRIST IS REVEALED 171 
 
 tunity, and magnify thy grace in the Salvation of my soul, 
 through thy Son Jesus Christ, Amen. 
 
 CHR. And did you do as you were bidden ? 
 
 HOPE. Yes ; over, and over, and over. He prays. 
 
 CHR. 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. 
 
 CHR. What did you do then ? 
 
 HOPE. What ! why I could not tell what to do. 
 
 CHR. Had you not thoughts of leaving off' praying? 
 
 HOPE. Yes, an hundred times, twice told. He ^ ow ^ to 
 
 CHR. And what was the reason you did not? leave off 
 HOPE. I believed that that was true which 
 
 mi i He durst not 
 
 had been told me; to wit, lhat without the leave off prat/- 
 
 righteousness of this Christ, all the World 
 could not save me : and therefore thought I with myself, 
 If I leave off, I die ; and I can but die at the throne of 
 Grace. And withal, this came into my mind, If it tarry, 
 wait for it, because it will surely come, and will not tarry. So 
 I continued praying until the Father shewed me his Son. 
 
 CHR. And how was he revealed unto you ? 
 
 HOPE. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with 
 the eye^L <*f mine understanding ; and thus it christ ,-, rc _ 
 was. One day! was very sad, Ithink sadder veaied to him, 
 
 ,, . . ,.,, i 4.1 andhotv. 
 
 than at any one time in my me ; and this 
 sadness Avas through a fresh sight of the greatness and 
 vileness of my sins. And as I was then looking for nothing 
 but Hell, and the everlasting damnation of my Soul, 
 suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down 
 from Heaven upon me, and saying, Believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and thou shalt be saved. 
 
 But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner ; and 
 he answered, My grace is sufficient for thee. Then I said, 
 But Lord, what is believing ? And then I saw from that 
 
172 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 saying, [He that cometli to me shall never hunger, and lie 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. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and 
 I asked farther, 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. 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. He is the end of the Law for righteous- 
 ness to every one that believes. He died for our sins, and rose 
 again for our justification. He loved us, and washed us from 
 our sins in his own blood. He is Mediator between God and 
 us. He ever liveth to make intercession for us. From all 
 which I gathered that I must look for righteousness in his 
 person, and for satisfaction for my sins by his blood ; that 
 what he did in obedience to his Father's Law, and in sub- 
 mitting to the penalty thereof, was not for himself, but for 
 him that will accept it for his Salvation, and be thankful. 
 And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, 
 and mine affections running over with love to the Name, 
 People, and Ways of Jesus Christ. 
 
 CHR. This was a Revelation of Christ to your soul 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 God the Father, though he be just, can 
 j ustly 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 mine heart before now that shewed me so the beauty of 
 Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do 
 
IGNORANCE COMES UP AGAIN 173 
 
 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 then saw in my Dream, that Hopeful looked back and 
 saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. 
 Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder Youngster loitereth 
 behind. 
 
 CHR. Ay, Ay, I see him ; he careth not for our Company. 
 
 HOPE. But I tro, it would not have hurt him, had he kept 
 pace with us hitherto. 
 
 CHR. That's true, but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise. 
 
 HOPE. That I think he doth, but however let Voun o 
 
 jf T o j.i J-J Ignorance 
 
 us tai~ry jor him. feo they did. comes up again. 
 
 Then Christian said to him, Come away man ; Their talk. 
 why do you stay so behind? 
 
 IGN. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more 
 a great deal than in Company, unless I like it the better. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly) Did I not tell 
 you, he cared not for our Company. But however, come up, 
 and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then 
 directing his Speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do 
 you ? how stands it between God and your Soul now ? 
 
 IGN. I hope well, for I am always full of 
 
 J > Ignorance's 
 
 good motions that come into my mind to hope, and the 
 
 f T II ground of it. 
 
 comtort me as 1 walk. 
 
 CHR. What good motions ? pray tell us. 
 
 IGN. Why, I think of God and Heaven. 
 
 CHR. So do the Devils and damned Souls. 
 
 IGN. But I think of them, and desire them. 
 
 CHR. So do many that are never like to come there : The 
 Soul of the Sluggard desires and hath nothing. 
 
 IGN. But I think of them, and leave all for them. 
 
 CHR. That I doubt , for leaving of all is an hard matter, 
 
174 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 
 yea a harder matter then many are aware of. But why, or 
 by what, art thou perswaded that thou hast left all for God 
 and Heaven ? 
 J IGN. My heart tells me so. 
 
 CHB. The wise man says, He that trusts his own heart is a 
 fool. 
 
 IGN. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good one. 
 
 CHR. But how dost thou prove that ? 
 
 IGX. It comforts me in hopes of Heaven. 
 
 CHR. That may be through its deceltfulness ; for a mans 
 heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing 
 for which he yet has no ground to hope. 
 
 IGN. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore 
 my hope is well grounded. 
 
 CHR. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together? 
 
 IGN. My heart tells me so. 
 
 CHR. Ask my Fellow if I be a Thief. Thy heart tells thcc 
 so! Except the word of God beareth witness in this matter* 
 other Testimony is of no "value. 
 
 IGN. But is it not a good heart that has good thoughts ? 
 And is not that a good life that is according to God's Com- 
 mandments ? 
 
 ! 
 
 CHR. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, and 
 that is a good life that is according to God^s Commandments. 
 But It Is one thing Indeed to have these, and another thing only 
 to think so. 
 
 IGN. Pray what count you good thoughts, and a life accord- 
 in"; to God's Commandments ? 
 
 o 
 
 CHR. There are good thoughts of diver* Jcbids, some 
 respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other 
 things. 
 
 are good IciN. What be good thoughts respecting our- 
 
 selyes ? 
 
 Ciiu. Such as agree with the Word of God. 
 
WHAT ARE GOOD THOUGHTS 175 
 
 IGN. When does our thoughts of ourselves agree with the 
 Word of God ? .vv<L-/"W 
 
 CHR. When zee pass the same Judgment upon ourselves which 
 the Word passes. To explain myself ; the Word of God saith 
 of persons in a natural condition. There is none Righteous, 
 there is none that doth good. It saith also, That every 
 imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and that con- 
 tinually. And again, The imagination of man's heart is evil 
 from his Youth. Now then, when we think thus of ourselves, 
 having sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones, because 
 according to the Word of God. 
 
 IGN. I will never believe that my heart is thus bad. 
 
 CHR. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought concerning 
 thyself in thy life. But let me go on : As the Word passeth a 
 Judgment upon our HEART, so it passeth a Judgment upon 
 our WAYS ; and when our thoughts of our HEARTS and 
 WAYS agree with the Judgment which the Word giveth of 
 both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto. 
 
 IGN. Make out your meaning. 
 
 CHR. Why, the Word of God saith, That mail's ways are 
 crooked ways, not good, but perverse. It saith, They are 
 naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it. 
 Now when a man thus thinketh of his ways, I say when he doth 
 sensibly, and with heart-humiliation thus think, then hath he 
 good thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree 
 with the judgment of the Wo?*d of God. 
 
 IGN. What are good thoughts concerning God ? 
 
 CHR. Even (as I have said concerning ourselves) when our 
 thoughts of God do agree with what the Word saith of him. 
 And that is, when we think of his Being and Attributes as the 
 Word hath taught : of which I cannot now discourse at large. 
 But to speak of him with reference to us, then 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 
 
176 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 see none in ourselves ; when we think he knows our inmost 
 thoughts., and that our heart with all its depths is always open 
 unto his eyes. Also when we think that all our Righteousness 
 stinks in his Nostrils, and that therefore he cannot abide to see 
 us stand before him in any confidence even of all our best 
 performances. 
 
 IGN. 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 ? 
 
 CHR. Why, how dost thou think in this matter ? 
 
 IGN. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for 
 Justification. 
 
 CHR. How ! think thou must believe in Christ , when thou 
 seest not thy need, of him ! Thou neither seest thy original, or 
 actual infirmities, but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of 
 what thou doest, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never 
 see a necessity of Chrises personal righteousness to justify thee 
 before God : How then dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? 
 
 IGN. I believe well enough for all that. 
 
 CHR. How doest thou believe ? 
 
 IGN. I believe that Christ died for sinners, and that I shall 
 The Faith of be justified before God from the curse, through 
 his gracious acceptance of my obedience 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. 
 
 CHR. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy 
 faith. 
 
 1. Thou believest with a Fantastical Faith, for this faith is 
 no where described in the Word. 
 
 Q. Thou believest with a False Faith, because It taketh Justi- 
 fication from the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies 
 it to thy own. 
 
 8. This faith maketh not Christ a Justlficr of thy person, 
 
THE FAITH OF IGNORANCE 177 
 
 but of thy actions ; and of tliy person for thy actions' 1 sake, 
 which is false. 
 
 4. Therefore this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave 
 thee under wrath, in the day of God Almighty. For true 
 Justifying Faith puts the soul (as sensible of its lost condition 
 by the Law) upon fly ing for refuge unto Chrises righteousness: 
 ( Which righteousness of his, is not an act of grace, by which 
 he mdkeihfor Justification thy obedience accepted with God, but 
 his personal obedience to the Law in doing and suffering for 
 us, what that required at our hands.) This righteousness, 
 I say, true faith accepteth, under the skirt of which, the soul 
 being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before God, it is 
 accepted, and acquit from condemnation. 
 
 IGN. What ! would you have us trust to what Christ in his 
 own person has done without us ! This conceit would loosen 
 the reins of our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list. For 
 what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's 
 personal righteousness from all, when we believe it ? 
 
 CHR. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou; 
 even this thy answer demonstrateth what I say. Ignorant thou 
 art of what Justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant how to 
 secure thy Soul through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath 
 of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of 
 saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, which is, to bow and 
 win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his Name, his Word, 
 Ways, and People ; and not as thou ignorantly imaginest. 
 
 HOPE. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from 
 Heaven ? 
 
 IGN. What ! You are a man for revelations ! I believe that 
 what both you, and all the rest of you say about ignorance 
 that matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains. them. 
 
 HOPE. Why man ! Christ is so hid in God from the natural 
 apprehensions of all flesh, that he cannot by any man be 
 savingly known, unless God the Father reveals him to them. 
 
178 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Bespeaks lox. That Is your faith, but not mine; yet 
 
 If'whafhe 1 ^ ne I doubt not, ?,9 as good as yours : though I 
 knows not have not In my head so many whimsies as you. 
 
 CHR. Give me leave to put in a word : You ought not so 
 slightly to speak of this matter : for this I will boldly affirm, 
 (even as my good companion hath done) that no man can 
 know Jesus Christ but by the Revelation of the Father : yea, 
 and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ (if it 
 be right) must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his 
 mighty power ; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor 
 Ignorance, thou are ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine 
 own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus ; and by his 
 righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, (for he 
 himself is God) thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. 
 The talk broke IGN. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with 
 you , do you go on before, I must stay awhile 
 behind. 
 
 Then they said, 
 
 Well Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be 
 To slight good Counsel, ten times given thee ? 
 And If thou yet refuse It, thou shalt know 
 Ere long the evil of thy doing so. 
 Remember man In time, stoop, do not fear, 
 Good Counsel taken well, saves ; therefore hear. 
 But If thou yet shalt slight It, thou wilt be 
 The loser (Ignorance) Fll warrant thee. 
 
 Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow. 
 
 CHR. Well, come my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou 
 and I must walk by ourselves again. 
 
 So I saw in my Dream, that they went on apace before, 
 and Ignorance he came hobbling after. Then said Christ inn 
 to his companion, It pities me much for this poor man, it 
 certainly go III with him at 
 
THE GOOD USE OF FEAR 179 
 
 HOPE. Alas, there are abundance in our Town in his con- 
 dition ; 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 ? 
 
 CHR. Indeed the Word 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. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you 
 are the elder man. 
 
 CHR. Then I say sometimes (as I think) they may, but they 
 being naturally ignorant, understand not that such convictions 
 tend to their good ; and therefore they do desperately seek to 
 stifle them, and presumptuously continue toJJatter themselves in 
 the way of their own hearts. 
 
 HOPE. I do believe as you say, that fear tends much to \ 
 Men's good and to make them right, at their 77^ good use O f I 
 beginning to go on Pilgrimage. S ear - 
 
 CHR. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right : for so says 
 the word, The fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom. 
 
 HOPE. How will you describe right fear ? 
 
 CHR. True, or right fear, is discovered by three Rie/htfear. 
 things. 
 
 1. By its rise. It is caused by saving convictions for sin. 
 
 2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for Salva- 
 tion. 
 
 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 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 
 we now almost got past the enchanted ground ? 
 
 H 
 
180 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHR. Why, are you weary of this discourse? 
 
 HOPE. No verily, but that I would know where we are. 
 
 CHR. We have not now above tivo miles further to go thereon. 
 Why ignorant But let us return to our matter. Now the Igno- 
 ^onvicfions 16 rant know not that such convictions that tend to 
 
 1. in general. p u t them in fear, are for their good, and there- 
 fore they seek to stifle them. 
 
 HOPE. How do they seek to stifle them ? 
 
 CHR. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the 
 
 2. inparticuiar. 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 these fears tend 
 to take away from them their pitiful old self-holiness, 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. 
 
 CHR. Well, we will leave at this time our Neighbor Ignorance 
 by himself, and fall upon another profitable question. 
 
 HOPE. With all my heart, but you shall still begin. 
 
 CHR. Well then, did you not 'know about ten years ago, one 
 Talk about one Temporary in your parts, who was a forward 
 
 Temporary. man - %n R e lig lon tnen ? 
 
 HOPE. Know him ! Yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a Town 
 Where he dwelt, about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt 
 next door to one Turn-bach. 
 
 CHR. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, 
 He was to- ^O-t man was much awakened once ; I believe 
 
 wardlyonce. ^ m ^ tf ien j ie j mc i 8ome s jght of his sins, and 
 
 of the wages that was due thereto. 
 
WHY TOWARDLY ONES GO BACK 181 
 
 HOPE. I am of your mind, for (my House not being above 
 three miles from him) he would ofttimes come to me, and 
 that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not 
 altogether without hope of him ; but one may see it is not 
 every one that cries, Lord, Lord. 
 
 CHR. He told me once. That he was resolved to go on 
 Pilgrimage as we go now ; but all of a sudden he grew 
 acquainted with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger 
 to me. 
 
 HOPE. Now since we are talking about him, let us a little 
 enquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and 
 such others. 
 
 CHR. It may be very profitable, but do you begin. 
 
 HOPE. Well then, there are in my judgment four reasons 
 for it. 
 
 1. Though the Consciences of such men are awakened, yet 
 their minds are not changed: therefore when Reasonswhy 
 the power of guilt weareth away, that which towardiy ones 
 provoked them to be Religious ceaseth. Where- 
 fore they naturally turn to their own course again : even 
 as we see the Dog that is sick of what he hath eaten, 
 so long as his sickness prevails he vomits and casts up 
 all ; not that he doth this of a free mind (if we may say 
 a Dog has a mind) but because it troubleth his Stomach ; 
 but now when his sickness is over, and so his Stomach eased, 
 his desires being; not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns 
 
 o 
 
 him about and licks up all. And so it is true which is written, 
 The Dog is turned to his own vomit again. This, 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. 
 
182 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 . 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 men bringeth a snare. So then, though 
 they seem to be hot for Heaven, so long as the flames of Hell 
 are about their ears, yet when that terror is a little over, 
 they betake themselves to second thoughts : namely, that "'tis 
 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 wrath to come, they return again 
 to their former course. 
 
 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them, 
 they like not to see their misery before they come into it. 
 Though perhaps the sight of it first, if they loved that sight, 
 might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe ; 
 but because they do, as I hinted before, even shun the thoughts 
 of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of 
 their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they 
 harden their hearts gladly, and chuse such ways as will harden 
 them more and more. 
 
 CHR. You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of all 
 is, for want of a change in their mind and will. And therefore 
 they are but like the Felon that standeth before the Judge ; he 
 quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily : but the 
 bottom of all is the fear of the Halter, not of any detestation 
 of the ojf'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 otherwise. 
 
 HOPE. Now I have shewed you the reasons of their going 
 back, do you show me the manner thereof. 
 
THE COUNTRY OF BEULAH 183 
 
 CHR. So I will willingly. How the 
 
 1. They draw off their thoughts, all that Apostate goes 
 they may, from the remembrance of God, 
 
 Death, and Judgment to come. 
 
 2. Then they cast off by degrees private Duties, as Closet- 
 Prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the 
 like. 
 
 3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm 
 Christians. 
 
 4. After that, they grow cold to publick Duty, as Hearing, 
 Reading, 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 spied in them) behind their 
 backs. 
 
 6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves 
 Avith 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 shew themselves as 
 they are. Thus being launched again into the gulf of misery, 
 unless a Miracle of Grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish 
 in their own deceivings. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that by this time the Pilgrims 
 were got over the Inchanted Ground, and entering in the 
 Country of Beulah, whose Air was very sweet and pleasant, 
 the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves 
 there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually the 
 singing of Birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the 
 earth, and heard the voice of the Turtle in the Land. In 
 
184 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 this Country the Sun shineth night and day ; wherefore this 
 was beyond the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and also out 
 of the reach of Giant Despair ; neither could they from this 
 place so much as see Doubting- Castle. Here they were 
 within sight of the City they were going to : also here met 
 Angels. 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 rejoyceth over the Bride, so did their 
 God rejoyce over them. Here they had no want of Corn and 
 Wine ; for in this place they met with abundance of what 
 they had sought for in all their Pilgrimage. Here they heard 
 voices from out of the City, loud voices ; saying, Say ye to 
 the daughter o/'Zion, Behold thy Salvation cometh, behold, his 
 reward is with him. Here all the Inhabitants of the Country 
 called them, The holy People, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought 
 out, etc. 
 
 Now as they walked in this Land, they had more rejoicing 
 than in parts more remote from the Kingdom to which they 
 were bound ; and drawing near to the City, they had yet 
 a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of Pearls and 
 precious Stones, also the Street thereof was paved with Gold, 
 so that by reason of the natural glory of the City, and the 
 reflection of the Sun-beams upon it, Christian, with desire fell 
 sick, Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same Disease. 
 Wherefore here they lay by it a while, crying out because of 
 their pangs, If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of 
 love. 
 
 But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear 
 their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer 
 and nearer, where were Orchards, Vineyards and Gardens, 
 and their Gates opened into the High-way. Now as they 
 came up to these places, behold the Gardener stood in the 
 
THE KINGS VINEYARDS 
 
 185 
 
 way ; to whom the Pilgrims said, Whose goodly Vineyards 
 and Gardens are these ? He answered, They are the KingX 
 and are planted here for his own delights, and also for the 
 Solace of Pilgrims. So the Gardener had them into the 
 
 CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL IN THE KING'S VINEYARDS. 
 
 Vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with Dainties. 
 He also shewed them there the King's walks, and the Arbors 
 where he delighted to be. And here they tarried and slept. 
 Now I beheld in my Dream, that they talked more in their 
 
186 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 sleep at this time, than ever they did in all their Journey ; 
 and being in a muse thereabout, the Gardener said even to 
 
 o 
 
 me Wherefore musest thou at the matter ? It is the nature 
 of the fruit of the Grapes f 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 reflections of the 
 Sun upon the City (for the City was pure Gold) was so ex- 
 tremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open face 
 behold it, but through an Instrument made for that purpose. 
 So I saw, that as they went on, there met them two men, in 
 Raiment that shone like Gold, also their faces shone as the light. 
 
 These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came ? and 
 they told them ; they also asked them, Where they had 
 lodged, what difficulties, and dangers, what comforts and 
 pleasures they had met in the way ? and they told them. 
 Then said the men that met them, You have but two 
 difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the City. 
 
 Christian then and his Companion asked the men to go 
 along with them, so they told them they would ; but, said 
 they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my 
 Dream that they went on together till they came in sight of 
 the Gate. 
 
 w I further saw that betwixt them and the Gate was a 
 Death, 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 stounded ; but the men that went 
 with them, said, You must go through, or you cannot come 
 at the Gate. 
 
 The Pilgrims then began to enquire if there was no other 
 Death is not way to the Gate ; to which they answered, Yes, 
 nature, though but there hath not any, save two, to wit, Enoch 
 $gS*yff* and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path, 
 into Glory. since the foundation of the World, nor shall, 
 
mm .; mm 
 
 ^rSfea, *ms&-. 
 
 3=4^ Mwf~ ; ' 
 |^f^& V : "*' 1 ' 
 
 
 
 ; ' 
 
 
 H 3 
 
THE CONFLICT AT THE HOUR OF DEATH 189 
 
 until the last Trumpet shall sound. The Pilgrims, then, 
 'especially Christian, began to dispond in his mind, and 
 looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, 
 by which they might escape the River. Then they asked the 
 men, if the Waters were all of a depth ? They said, No; yet 
 they could not help them in that Case, for said 
 
 J Angels help us 
 
 they : You shall Jind it deeper or shallower, as not comfortably 
 
 T 7 . . .-, "" jr. />. 7 7 through death. 
 
 you believe in the King oj the place. 
 
 They then addressed themselves to the Water ; and entring, 
 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 cEeerpiny Brother, I feel 
 the bottom, and it is good. Then said Christian, Christians 
 Ah my friend, the sorrows of death have com- conflict at the 
 
 -i Tin T hour of death. 
 
 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 refreshments that he had met 
 with in the way of his Pilgrimage. But all the words 
 that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror 
 of mind, and hearty 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 trouble- 
 some thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since 
 and before he began to be a Pilgrim. 'Twas also observed, 
 that he was troubled with apparitions of Hobgoblins and 
 Evil Spirits. For ever and anon he would intimate so much 
 by words. Hopeful therefore here had much ado to keep his 
 Brother's head above water, yea sometimes he would be quite 
 gone down, and then ere a while he would rise up again half 
 dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying, 
 
190 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Brother, I see the Gate, and men standing by it to receive us. 
 But Christian would answer : 'Tis you, 'tis you they wait for, 
 you have been Hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have 
 you, said he to Christian. Ah Brother, said he, surely if 
 I was right, he would now arise to help me ; but for my sins 
 he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then 
 said Hopeful, My Brother, you have quite forgot the Text, 
 where it 's said of the wicked, There is no band in their death, 
 but their strength is firm : they are not troubled as other men, 
 neither are the?/ plagued like other men. These troubles and 
 distresses that you go through in these Waters, are no sign 
 that God hath forsaken you, but are sent to try you, whether 
 you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received 
 of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that Christian was in a muse 
 Christian a while ; to whom also Hopeful added this 
 
 Sffn m word, Be of good cheer, Jems Christ maketli 
 deaih - thee whole: And with that, Christian brake 
 
 out with a loud voice, Oh I see him again ! and he tells 
 me, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, 
 and through the Rivers, they shall not overflow thee. Then 
 they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still 
 as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore 
 presently found ground to stand upon ; and so it followed 
 that the rest of the River was but shallow. Thus they got 
 over. Now upon the bank of the River, on the other side, 
 they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for 
 nieAn is do them. Wherefore being come up out of the 
 wait for them River, they saluted them saying, We are 
 
 so soon as they ... o / _/> j 7 j _r 
 
 are passed out ministrmg spirits, sent jortli to minister jor 
 of this world. tjwse that shall be Helrs O f Salvation. Thus 
 
 they went along towards the Gate. Now you must note 
 that the City stood upon a mighty hill, but the Pilgrims went 
 up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to 
 
TALK WITH THE SHINING ONES 191 
 
 lead them up by the Arms ; also they had left tKeir Mortal 
 Garments behind them in the River; for They have put 
 though they went in with them, they came off mortality 
 out without them. They therefore went up here with much 
 agility and speed, though the foundation upon which the 
 City was framed was higher than the Clouds. They there- 
 fore 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. 
 
 The talk they had with the shining Ones, was about the 
 Glory of the place, who told them, that the beauty, and 
 glory of it was inexpressible. There, said they, is the Mount 
 Sion, the Heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of 
 Angels, and the Spirits of Just men made perfect. You are 
 going now, said they, to the Paradise of God, wherein you 
 shall see the Tree of Life, and eat of the never-fading fruits 
 thereof : and when you come there you shall have white Robes 
 given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the 
 King, even all the days of Eternity. 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 tilings are passed away. You are 
 going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the 
 Prophets ; men that God hath taken away from the evil to 
 come, and that are now resting upon their Beds, each one 
 walking in his righteousness. The men then asked, What 
 must we do in the holy place ? To whom it was answered, 
 You must there receive the comfort of all your toil, and have 
 joy for all your sorrow ; you must reap what you have sown, 
 even the fruit of all your Prayers and Tears, and sufferings for 
 the King by the way. In that place you must wear Crowns of 
 Gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and Visions of the Holy 
 One, for there you shall see him as he is. There also you 
 
192 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 got thither 
 before you ; and there you shall with joy receive even every 
 one that follows into the Holy Place after you. There also 
 you shall be cloathed with Glory and Majesty, and put into 
 an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When 
 he shall come with sound of Trumpet in the Clouds, as upon 
 the wings of the wind, you shall come with him ; and when 
 he shall sit upon the Throne of Judgment, you shall sit by 
 him ; yea, and when he shall pass Sentence upon all the 
 workers of Iniquity, let them be Angels or Men, you also 
 shall have a voice in that Judgment, because they were his 
 and your Enemies. Also when he shall again return to the 
 City, you shall go too, with sound of Trumpet, and be ever 
 with him. 
 
 Now while they were thus drawing towards the Gate, 
 behold a company of the Heavenly Host came out to meet 
 them l : to whom it was said by the other two shining Ones, 
 These are the men that have loved our Lord, when they 
 were in the World ; and that have left all for his holy Name, 
 and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them 
 thus far on their desired Journey ; that they may go in and 
 look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the Heavenly 
 Host gave a great shout, saying, Blessed are they that are called 
 to the Marriage supper of the Lamb : 
 
 There came out also at this time to meet them several of 
 
 1 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? 
 
A HEAVENLY WELCOME 193 
 
 the Kings Trumpeters, cloathed in white and shining Rai- 
 ment, who with melodious noises and loud, made even the 
 Heavens to echo with their sound. These Trumpeters 
 saluted Christian and his Fellow with ten thousand welcomes 
 from the world : and this they did with shouting, and sound 
 of Trumpet. 
 
 This done, they compassed them round on every side; 
 some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, 
 some on the left (as 'twere to guard them through the upper 
 Regions) continually sounding as they w r ent, with melodious 
 noise, in notes on high ; so that the very sight was to them 
 that could behold it, as if Heaven it self was come down to 
 meet them. Thus therefore they walked on together, and 
 as they walked, ever and anon, these Trumpeters, even with 
 joyful sound, would, by mixing their Musick 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 
 'twere, 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 company, 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. 
 
 Now when they were come up to the Gate, there w r as 
 written over it, in Letters of Gold, Blessed are they that 
 do his commandments, that they may have right to the 
 Tree of life ; and may enter in through the Gates into 
 the City. 
 
 Then I saw in my Dream, that the shining men bid them 
 call at the Gate ; the which when they did, some from above 
 
194 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 looked over the Gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, etc. 
 to whom it was said, These Pilgrims are come from the City 
 of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this 
 place : and then the Pilgrims gave in unto them each man his 
 Certificate, which they had received in the beginning. Those 
 therefore were carried in 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, 
 that "keepeth truth may enter in. 
 
 Now I saw in my Dream, that these two men went in at 
 the Gate ; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, 
 and they had Raiment put on that shone like Gold, There 
 was also that met them with Harps and Crowns, and gave 
 them to them ; the Harp to praise withal, and the Crowns in 
 token of honor. Then I heard in my Dream that all the 
 Bells in the City Rang again for joy, and that it was 
 said unto them, Enter ye into the joy of your Lord. I also 
 heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud 
 voice, saying, Blessing, Honour, Glory, and Power, be to him 
 that sitteth upon the Throne, and to the Lamb for ever 
 and ever. 
 
 Now just as the Gates were opened to let in the 
 men, I looked in after them ; and behold, the City shone 
 like the Sun, the Streets also were paved with Gold, 
 and in them walked many men, with Crowns on their 
 heads, Palms in their hands, and golden Harps to sing praises 
 withal. 
 
 There were also of them that had wings, and they 
 answered one another without intermission, saying, Holy, 
 Holy, Holy, is the Lord. And after that, they shut up 
 the Gates : which when I had seen, I wished myself among 
 them. 
 
 Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my 
 
IGNORANCE AND VAIN-HOPE 195 
 
 head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the River 
 side ; but he soon got over, and that with- 
 
 V Ignorance, 
 
 out half that difficulty which the other two men come* up to the 
 
 fffiflpWI 
 
 met with. For it happened that there was then 
 in that place one Vain-hope a Ferry-man, that vain-Hope, does 
 with his Boat helped him over : so he, as the ferry Mm over ' 
 other I saw, did ascend the Hill to come up to the Gate, only 
 he came alone ; neither did any man meet him with the least 
 encouragement. When he was come up to the Gate, he 
 looked up to the writing that was above ; and then began to 
 knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly 
 administered to him. But he was asked by the men that 
 lookt 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 shew 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. So I awoke, and behold it was 
 a Dream. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
The Conclusion. 
 
 \Totv Reader, I have told my Dream to tliee ; 
 * See if tJwu canst Interpret it to me ; 
 
 Or to thyself, or Neighbor: but take heed 
 Of mis-interpreting ; for that, instead 
 Of doing good, will but thyself abuse : 
 By mis-interpreting evil insues. 
 
 Take heed also, that thou be not extream, 
 In playing with the out-side 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 Vail; 
 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 throzvs away the Apple for the Core. 
 But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, 
 I know not but "'twill make me dream again. 
 
 THK END. 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 FROM 
 
 THIS WORLD 
 
 TO 
 
 THAT WHICH IS TO COME 
 
 THE SECOND PART 
 
 DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A 
 
 DREAM 
 
 WHEREIN IS SET FORTH 
 
 THE MANNER OF THE SETTING OUT OF CHRISTIAN'S WIFE 
 
 AND CHILDREN, THEIR DANGEROUS JOURNEY, AND 
 
 SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN 
 
 / have used similitudes. HOSEA xii. 10 
 
THE 
 
 AUTHORS WAY OF SENDING FORTH 
 
 HIS 
 
 SECOND PART 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PILGRIM 
 
 , now my little Book, to every place 
 Where my first Pilgrim has but shewn his Face : 
 Call at their door : If any say, who ""s there ? 
 Then answer thou, Christiana is here. 
 If they bid thee come in, then enter thou 
 With all thy boys. And then, as thou know^st how, 
 Tell who they are, also from whence they came ; 
 Perhaps theyl know them, by their looks, or name. 
 But if they should not, ask them yet again 
 If formerly they did not Entertain 
 One Christian a Pilgrim ; If they say 
 They did, and was 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 Home, 
 Are turned Pilgrims, seek a World to come : 
 That they have met with hardships in the way, 
 That they do meet with troubles night and Day; 
 That they have trod on Serpents, fought with Devils, 
 Have also overcome a many evils. 
 Yea tell them also of the next, who have 
 Of love to Pilgrimage been stout and brave 
 
 199 
 
200 THE AUTHORS WAY OF SENDING 
 
 Defenders of that way, and how they still 
 Refuse this World, to do their Father's will. 
 
 Go, tell them also of those dainty things, 
 That Pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings. 
 Let them acquainted be, too, how they are 
 Beloved of their King, under his care ; 
 What goodly Mansions for them he provides, 
 The? they meet with rough Winds, and swelling tides. 
 How brave a calm they zvill 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 Jirstling, and will grace 
 Thee, and thy fellows, with such cheer and fair, 
 As shew will, they of Pilgrims lovers are. 
 
 1. Object. 
 
 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. 
 
 'jfw true, some have of late, to Counterfeit 
 My Pilgrim, to their own, my Title set , 
 Yea others, half my name and Title too 
 Have stitched to their Book, to make them do , 
 But yet they by their Features do declare 
 Themselves not mine to be, whosee^r they arc. 
 
 If such thou meefst with, then thine only way 
 Before them all, is, to say out thy say, 
 In thine own native Language, which no man 
 Now uscth, nor with case dissemble can. 
 
FORTH HIS SECOND PART 201 
 
 If after all, they still 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 will Testifie you Pilgrims be ; 
 Yea, I will Testifie that only you 
 My Pilgrims are : and that alone will do. 
 
 %. Object. 
 
 But yet, perhaps, I may enquire 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 Bool: has travelled Sea and Land, $ 
 Yet could I never come to understand, 
 That it was slighted, or turned out of Door 
 By any Kingdom, were they Rich or Poor. 
 
 In France and Flanders where men hill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is esteem d a Friend, a Brother. 
 
 In Holland too, "'tis said, as I am told, 
 My Pilgrim is with some, worth more than Gold, 
 
 Highlanders, and Wild-Irish can agree 
 My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 
 
 ''Tis in New-England under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving Countenance, 
 As to be Tr'mid, new-Cloth* d, and Declfd with Gems, 
 That it may shew its Features, and its limbs, 
 Yet more, so comely doth my Pilgrim walk. 
 That of him thousands daily Sing and talk. 
 
202 THE AUTHORS WAY OF SENDING 
 
 If you draw nearer home, it will appear 
 My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame, or fear ; 
 City, and Country will him entertain, 
 With Welcome Pilgrim. Yea, they cant refrain 
 From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by, 
 Or sheivs his head in any Company. 
 
 Brave Galants do my Pilgrim hug and love, 
 Esteem it much, yea, value it above 
 Things of a greater bulk, yea, with delight, 
 Say my Lark's-leg is better than a Kite. 
 
 Young Ladies, and young Gentlewomen too, 
 Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim shew ; 
 Their Cabinets, their Bosoms, and their Hearts 
 My Pilgrim has, ^ cause lie to them imparts, 
 His pretty riddles, in such wholesome strains 
 As yields them profit double to their pains 
 Of reading. Yea, I think I may be bold 
 To say some prize him far above their Gold. 
 
 The very Children that do walk the street, 
 If they do but my Holy Pilgrim meet, 
 Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
 He is the only Stripling of the Day. 
 
 They that have never seen him, yet admire 
 What they have heard of him, and much desire 
 To have his company, and hear him tell 
 Those Pilgrim stories which he knows so well. 
 
 Yea, some who did not love him at the first, 
 But calTd him Fool, and Noddy, say they must 
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend, 
 And to those whom they love, they do him send. 
 
 Wherefore my Second Part, thou needst not be 
 Afraid to shew thy Head: none can hurt thee, 
 That wish but well to him, that went before; 
 thou comst after with a second store 
 
FORTH HIS SECOND PART 203 
 
 t Of things as good, as rich, as profitable., 
 
 I For Young, for Old, for Staggering and for Stable. I 
 
 3. Object. 
 
 But some there be that say, he laughs too loud ; 
 And some do say his Head is in a Cloud. 
 Some say, his Words and Stories are so dark, 
 They know not how, by them, to find his mark. 
 
 Answer. 
 
 One may (I think) say, both his laughs and cries, 
 May well be guess"t at by his watry Eyes. 
 Some things are of that Nature as to make 
 One^s f ancle Clieckle while his Heart doth alee: 
 When Jacob saw his Rachel with the Sheep, 
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep. 
 
 Whereas some say a Cloud is in his Head, 
 That doth- but shew liow 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 contain, 
 That speak to us in such a Cloudy strain. 
 
 I also know, a dark Similitude 
 Will on the Fancie more itself intrude, 
 And will stick faster in the Heart and Head, 
 Than things from Similes not borrowed. 
 
 Wherefore, my Book, let no discouragement 
 Hinder thy travels. Behold, thou art sent 
 To Friends not foes : to Friends that will give place 
 To thee, thy Pilgrims and thy words embrace. 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left concealed, 
 Thou my brave Second Pilgrim, hast reveal\l; 
 
204 THE AUTHORS WAY OF SENDING 
 
 What Christian left lockt up and went his way. 
 Sweet Christiana opens with her Key. 
 
 4. Object. 
 
 But some love not the method of your first : 
 Romance they count it, throw't away as dust, 
 I f I should meet with such, what should I say ? 
 Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay? 
 
 Answer. 
 
 My Christiana, if with such thou meet, 
 By all-means in all loving-wise, them greet ; 
 Render them not reviling for revile ; 
 But if they frown, I prethee on them smile : 
 Perhaps "'tis Nature, or some ill report 
 Has made them thus dispise, 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 Cuckow or an Owl: 
 Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice, 
 And seek those, who to find thee will rejoyce ; 
 By no means strive, but in all humble wise, 
 Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise. 
 
 Go then, my little Book, and shew to all 
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, 
 What thou slialt keep close, shut up from the rest, 
 And wish what thou shalt shew them may be Nest 
 To them for good, may make them chuse to be 
 Pilgrims, better by far, than thee or me. 
 
 Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art ; 
 Say, I am Christiana, and my part 
 Is now with my four Sons to tell you what 
 It is for men to take a Pilgrims lot. 
 
FORTH HIS SECOND PART 205 
 
 Go also tell them who, and what they be, 
 That now do go on Pilgrimage with thee ; 
 Say, heres my neighbor Mercy, she is one, 
 That has long-time with me a Pilgrim gone: 
 Come see her in her Virgin Face, and learn 
 ''Twixt Idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. 
 Yea let young Damsels learn of her to prize, 
 The world which is to come, in any wise. 
 When little Tripping Maidens follow God, 
 And leave old doting Sinners to his Rod ; 
 ''Tis like those Days wherein the young ones cried 
 Hosannah to whom old ones did deride. 
 
 Next tell them of old Honest, who you found 
 With his white hairs treading' the Pilgrim? s ground; 
 Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was, 
 How after his good Lord he bare his Cross: 
 Perhaps with some gray Head this may prevail, 
 With Christ to fall in Love, and Sin bewail. 
 
 Tell them also how Master Fearing went 
 On Pilgrimage, and how the time he spent 
 In Solitariness, with Fears and Cries, 
 And how at last, he won the Joyful Prize. 
 He was a good Man, though much down in Spirit, 
 He is a good Man, and doth Life inherit. 
 
 Tell them of Master Feeblemind also, 
 Who, not before, but still behind would go ; 
 Shew them also how he had like been slain, 
 And how one Great-Heart did his life regain: 
 This man was true of Heart, tlio 1 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. 
 
206 THE AUTHORS WAY, ETC. 
 
 And let all know, tlio 1 weakness was their chance 
 Yet sometimes one could Sing, the other Dance. 
 
 Forget not Master Valiant- for-the-Truth, 
 That Man of courage, tho" a very Youth. 
 Tell every one his Spirit was so stout, 
 No Man could ever make him face about ; 
 And how Great-Heart and he could not forbear, 
 But put down Doubting Castle, slay Despair. 
 
 Overlook not Master Despondancie, 
 Nor Much-afraid his Daughter, tho" 1 the?/ lie 
 Under such Mantles as may make them look 
 ( With some) as if their God had them forsook. 
 They softly went, but sure, and at the end, 
 Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their Friend. 
 When thou hast told the World of all these things, 
 Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings ; 
 Which, if but touched will such Musick make, 
 They'll make a Cripple dance, a Giant quake. 
 
 These Riddles that lie couclit 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 that love this little Book and me ; 
 And may its buyer have no cause to say, 
 His money is but lost or thrown away: 
 Yea may this Second Pilgrim yield that Fruit 
 As may with each good Pilgrim^ f ancle suit ; 
 And may it perswade some that go astray, 
 To turn their Foot and Heart to the right way. 
 
 Is the Hearty Prayer 
 
 of the Author, 
 
 JOHN 13UNYAN. 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS : 
 
 IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A 
 
 DREAM 
 
 THE SECOND PART 
 
 /COURTEOUS Companions, some-time since, to tell you my 
 \-J Dream that I had of Christian the Pilgrim, and of his 
 dangerous Journey toward the Ccelestial Country, was pleasant 
 to me, and profitable to you. I told you then also what 
 I saw concerning his Wife and Children^ and how unwilling 
 they were to go with him on Pilgrimage ; insomuch that he 
 was forced to go on his Progress without them, for he durst 
 not run the danger of that destruction which he feared would 
 come by staying with them, in the City of Destruction. 
 Wherefore as I then shewed you, he left them and departed. 
 
 Now it hath so happened, thorough the Multiplicity of 
 Business, that I have been much hindred and kept back from 
 my wonted Travels into those Parts whence he went, and so 
 could not till now obtain an opportunity to make further 
 enquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an 
 account of them. But having had some concerns that way 
 of late, I went down again thitherward. Now having taken 
 up my Lodgings in a Wood about a mile off the place, as 
 I slept I dreamed again. 
 
 And as I was in my Dream, behold, an aged Gentleman 
 came by where I lay ; and because he was to go some part 
 of the way that I was travelling, methought I got up and 
 
208 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 went with him. So as we walked, and as Travellers usually 
 do, I was as if we fell 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 ill conditioned and idle sort of People. 
 
 / thought that was that City, quoth I, / went once myself 
 through that Town, and therefore know that this report you 
 give of it, is true. 
 
 SAG. Too true, I wish I could speak truth in speaking 
 better of them that dwell therein. 
 
 Well Sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well meaning 
 man : and so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that 
 which is good ; pray did you never hear what happened to a 
 man some time ago in this Town (whose name was Christian) 
 that went on Pilgrimage up towards the higher Regions ? 
 
 SAG. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the Molesta- 
 tions, Troubles, Wars, Captivities, Cries, Groans, Frights 
 and Fears that he met with, and had in his Journey. Besides, 
 I must tell you, all our Country rings of him ; there are but 
 few Houses that have heard of him and his doings, but have 
 sought after and got the Records of his Pilgrimage ; yea, 
 I think I may say, that that his hazardous Journey, has got 
 Christians are a many well-wishers to his ways. For though 
 
 ivell spolcen of -, -IT r- 7 > 
 
 when gone : thd 1 when he was here, he was r ooi in every man s 
 caU ^d Fools mouth, yet now he is gone, he is highly com- 
 
 wJiile they are ' * * 
 
 here. mended of all. For, "'tis said he lives bravely 
 
 where he is : yea many of them, that are resolved never to 
 run his hazards, yet have their mouths water at his gains. 
 
 They may, quoth I, well think, if they think any thing that 
 is true, that he liveth well where he is, for he now lives at and 
 
CHRISTIAN WELL SPOKEN OF 209 
 
 in the Fountain of Life ', and has what lie lias without labour 
 and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. 
 
 SAG. Talk ! The people talk strangely about him. Some 
 say, that he now walks in White., that he has a Chain of Gold 
 about his Neck, that he has a Crown of Gold, beset with 
 Pearls, upon his head. Others say that the shining ones that 
 sometimes shewed 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 Neighbor is with 
 another. Besides "'tis confidently affirmed concerning him, 
 that the King of the place where he is, has bestowed upon 
 him already a very rich and pleasant Dwelling at Court, and 
 that he every day eateth and drinketh, and walketh, and 
 talketh with him, and receiveth of the smiles and 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 Neighbors set so little by him, and had 
 him so much in derision when they perceived that he would 
 be a Pilgrim. 
 
 For they say, that now he is so in the affections of his 
 Prince, and that his Soveraign is so much con- Christians 
 cerned with the Indignities that were cast upon SS/^ 
 Christian when he became a Pilgrim, that he P art - 
 will look upon all as if done unto himself; and no marvel, 
 for 'twas for the love that he had to his Prince, that he 
 ventured as he did. 
 
 / dare say, quoth I, / am glad on it ; I am glad for the poor 
 mans sake, for that now he has rest from his labour, and for 
 that he now reaj)eth the benejit of his Tears with Joy : and for 
 that he has got beyond the Gun-shot of his Enemies, and is out 
 of the reach of them that hate him. I also am glad for that a 
 rumour of these things is noised abroad in this Country. Who 
 can tell but that it may work some good effect on some that are 
 
210 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 left behind? But, pray Sir, while it is fresh in my mind, do 
 you hear anything of his Wife and Children ? poor hearts, 
 I wonder in my mind what they do ! 
 
 SAG. Who ! Christiana, and her Sons ! They are like to do 
 Good Tidings as well as did Christian himself, for though they 
 Wif^and 1 ' a ^ pl a /d the Fool at the first, and would by no 
 Children. means be perswaded by either the tears or the 
 
 entreaties of Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought 
 wonderfully with them ; so they have packt up and are also 
 gone after him. 
 
 Better and better, quoth I. But what I Wife and Children 
 and all ? 
 
 SAG. 'Tis true, I can give you an account of the matter, 
 for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly 
 acquainted with the whole affair. 
 
 Then, said I, a man it seems may report it for a truth ? 
 
 SAG. You need not fear to affirm it, I mean that they are 
 all gone on Pilgrimage, both the good Woman and her four 
 Boys, And being we are, as I perceive, going some 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 
 she with her Children betook themselves to a Pilgrim's life,) 
 i part, page 190. after her Husband was gone over the River, 
 and she could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to 
 work in her mind. First, for that she had lost her Hus- 
 band, 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 
 Mark this you Relations, This therefore of her Husband did 
 
 C08t her mall y a Tcar ' Bllt tllis WaS llot all > 
 
 for Christiana did also br<nn to consider with 
 
 O 
 
 herself, whether her unbecoming behaviour towards her 
 
CHRISTIANAS DREAM 
 
 Husband, was not one cause that she saw him no more, and 
 that in such sort lie was taken away from her. And upon this, 
 came into her mind by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and 
 ungodly Carriages to her dear Friend : which also clogged her 
 Conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was moreover 
 much broken with calling to remembrance the restless Groans, 
 brinish Tears and self-bemoanings of her Husband, and how 
 she did harden her heart against all his entreaties, and loving 
 perswasions (of her and her Sons) to go with him, yea, there 
 was not any thing that Christian either said to her, or did 
 before her, all the while that his burden did hang on his back, 
 but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent 
 the Caul of her Heart in sunder. Specially that bitter out- 
 cry of his, What shall I do to be saved,, did i part, page w. 
 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 hindred you of Life. With that the boys fell all into 
 Tears, and cried out to go after their Father. Oh ! Said 
 Christiana, that it had been but our lot to go with him, 
 then had it fared well with us beyond what 'tis like to do 
 now. For tho 1 I formerly foolishly imagined concerning the 
 troubles of your Father, that they proceeded of a foolish 
 Fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with Melan- 
 choly Humours ; yet now 'twill not out of my mind, but that 
 they sprang from another cause, to wit, for that the .Light of 
 Light was given him, by the help of which, as I perceive, he 
 has escaped the Snares of Death. Then they all wept again, 
 and cryed out : Oh, Wo worth the day. 
 
 The next night, Christiana had a Dream, and behold she 
 saw as if a broad Parchment was opened be- Christiana's 
 fore her in which were recorded the sum of i>am. 
 her ways, and the times, as she thought, lookt very black 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 upon her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, Lord have 
 Mercy upon me a Sinner, and the little Children heard her. 
 After this she thought she saw two very ill-favoured ones 
 standing by her Bed-side, and saying, What 
 
 Mark this, tins is J . 
 
 the qnintesccnce shall iv e do with this Woman? For she cries 
 out for Mercy waking and sleeping: If she be 
 suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have 
 lost her Husband. Wherefore we must by one way or other, 
 seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall be 
 hereafter: else all the World cannot help 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 she thought she saw Christian her Husband 
 Help against 
 
 Discourage- in a place of Bliss among many Immortals, 
 with an Harp in his Hand, standing and 
 playing upon it before one that sate on a Throne with a 
 Rainbow about his Head. She saw also as if he bowed 
 his Head with his Face to the Pav'd-work that was under 
 the Prince's Feet, saying, / heartily thank my Lord and 
 King for bringing of me into this Place. Then shouted a 
 company of them that stood round about, and harped with 
 their Harps : but no man living could tell what they said, 
 but Christian and his Companions. 
 
 Next morning when she was up, and prayed to God, and 
 talked with her Children a while, one knocked hard at the 
 door ; to whom she spake out saying, If thou contest in Gods 
 name, come in. So he said Amen^ and opened the Door, and 
 Convictions saluted her with Peace be to this House. The 
 seconded with which when he had done, he said, Christiana, 
 
 fresh Tidings of 2 rri 
 
 Gods readiness knowest thou wherefore 1 am comer Inen 
 
 to Pardon. she blusht & ^ trem bi e d, also her heart began 
 
 to wax warm with desires to know whence he came, and what 
 was his Errand to her. So he said unto her; my name is 
 

 V\\ ' I Htfanv ;////// "* KMHr/* 
 
 CHRISTIANA INSTRUCTED BY SECRET. 
 
INSTRUCTION TO CHRISTIANA 215 
 
 Secret, I dwell with those that are high. It is talked of 
 where I dwell, as if thou had'st 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 offences. 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 be all glad when 
 they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's 
 Threshold. 
 
 Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bowing 
 her head to the ground, this Visitor proceeded and said, 
 Christiana! Here is also a Letter for thee which I have 
 brought from thy Husband's King. So she took it and 
 opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best Perfume, 
 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 dwell in his Presence with Joy, for ever. At Christiana 
 
 this the good Woman was overcome. So she vmte overcome. 
 
 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 
 
 / 
 
 sweet : Thou must through Troubles, as did he Further 
 that went before thee, enter this Ccelestial City, instruction to 
 Wherefore I advise thee, to do as did Christian 
 thy Husband : go to the Wicket Gate yonder, over the 
 
216 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 root-of- Heart. For it is one of the Songs 
 that thou must Sing while thou art in this House of thy 
 Pilgrimage. Also this thou must deliver 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 affected 
 Chri tiam therewith. He moreover proceeded and said, 
 
 prays well for So Christiana called her Sons together, and 
 began thus to Address herself unto them. 
 My Sons, I have as you may perceive, been of late under 
 much exercise in my Soul about the Death of your Father ; 
 not for that I doubt at all of his Happiness ; for I am 
 satisfied now that he is well. I have also been much 
 affected with the thoughts of mine own State and yours, 
 which I verily 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 out-right ; 
 but that for a Dream which I had last night, and but that 
 for the encouragement that this Stranger has given me this 
 Morning. Come my Children, let us pack up, and be gone 
 to the Gate that leads to the Ccelestial Country, that we may 
 see your Father, and be with him, and his Companions in 
 Peace, according to the Laws of that Land. 
 
 Then did her Children burst into Tears for Joy that the 
 Heart of their Mother was so inclined. So their Visitor bid 
 them farewell : and they began to prepare to set out for 
 their Journey. 
 
 But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the 
 
CHRISTIANAS NEW LANGUAGE 
 
 women that were Christianas Neighbors, came up to her 
 House and knocked at her door, To whom Christiana's 
 she said as before, If you come in Gotfs name, n n ^Z 
 come in. At this the Women were stun'd, for neighbours. 
 this kind of Language, they used not to hear, or to perceive 
 to drop from the Lips of Christiana. Yet they came in ; but 
 behold they found the good Woman a preparing to be gone 
 from her House. 
 
 So they began and said, Neighbor, pray what is your 
 meaning by this. 
 
 Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them whose 
 name was Mrs. Timorous, I am preparing for a Journey. 
 (This Timorous was daughter to him that met t H e 
 Christian upon the Hill Difficulty : and would 55. 
 a had him gone back for fear of the Lyons.) 
 
 TIMOROUS. For what Journey I pray you ? 
 
 CHRIS. Even to go after my good Husband ; and with that 
 she fell a weeping. 
 
 TIM. I hope not so, good Neighbor, pray for Timorous 
 your poor Children's sakes, do not so unwomanly 
 
 cast away yourself. with Mercy, 
 
 CHRIS. Nay, my Children shall go with me ; Neighbors. 
 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. 
 
 CHRIS. Oh, Neighbor, 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 ? 
 
 CHRIS. Then Christiana reply'd, I have been sorely afflicted 
 since my Husband's departure from me ; but Death. 
 specially since he went over the River. But that which 
 troubleth me most, is my churlish carriages to him when 
 
218 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 lie was under his distress. Besides, I am now, as he was 
 then ; nothing will serve me but going on Pilgrimage. 
 I was a dreaming last night that I saw him. O that 
 my Soul was with him. He dwelleth in the presence of 
 the King of the Country, he sits and eats with him 
 at his Table, he is become a Companion of Immortals, 
 and has a House now given him to dwell in, to which, 
 the best Palaces on Earth, if compared, seem to me to 
 be 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. And with that she 
 pluck'd out her Letter, and read it, and said to them, what 
 now will you say to this ? 
 
 TIM. Oh the madness that has possessed thee and thy 
 Husband, to run yourselves itpon such difficulties ! You have 
 heard, I am sure, what your Husband did meet with, even in 
 a manner at the Jlrst step, that he took on his way, as our 
 i part, page 13- Neighbour Obstinate can yet testlfie; for he 
 went along with him, yea and Pliable too iint'd 
 they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. We 
 also heard over and above, how he met with the Lions, 
 ApoUijon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. 
 Nor Is the danger that he met with at Vanity fair to be 
 Me reasonings forgotten by thee. For If he, tlw a man, was 
 
 y j J -/7 / 
 
 so hard put to It, what canst thou, being 1 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 llody, keep thou at 
 home. 
 
 But Christiana said unto her, tempt me not, my Neighbor : 
 1 have now a price put into mine hand to get gain, and 
 1 should be a Fool of the greatest size, if I should have no 
 
TIMOROUS REVILES CHRISTIANA 219 
 
 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 discourage- 
 ment, that they shew I am in the right. The 
 
 J A pertinent 
 
 bitter must come before the sweet : , and that also reply to fleshly 
 
 will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore 
 
 since you came not to my House in GocTs name, as I 
 
 .said, I pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet me 
 
 farther. 
 
 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her Fellow, 
 come Neighbor Mercy., let's leave her in her own hands, since 
 she scorns our Counsel and Company. But Mercy was at 
 a stand, and could not so readily comply with her Neighbor : 
 and that for a two-fold reason. First, her 
 
 Mercy s Bowels 
 
 Bowels yearned over Christiana : so she said yearn over 
 
 ..i. i Tf-rf -ii n 11 Christiana, 
 
 with in herself, It my neighbor 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 
 Neighbor Timorous. 
 
 MERCY. Neighbor, I did indeed come with you to see 
 Christiana this Morning, and since she is, as you Timorous 
 see, a taking of her last farewell of her Country, f ^ 
 I think to walk this Sunshine Morning, a little cleaves to her. 
 way with her to help her on the way. But she told her not 
 of her 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 
 
 18 
 
220 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 herself to her Journey. But when Timorous was got home 
 Timorous to her House, she sends for some of her Neigh- 
 
 a Frienal tS iJilat bors, to wit, Mrs. Bats-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, 
 the good Mrs. Liffht-mind and Mrs. Know-nothing. So 
 
 Christiana 
 
 intend* to do. 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. Neighbors, having had little to do this morning, 
 I went to give Christiana a visit, and when I came at the 
 door, I knocked, as you know 'tis our Custom. And she 
 answered, If you come in GocVs name, come in. So in I went, 
 thinking all was well. But when I came in, I found her pre- 
 paring herself to depart the Town, she and also her Children. 
 So I asked her what was her meaning by that, and she told 
 me in short, that she was now of a mind to go on Pilgrimage, 
 as did her Husband. She told me also a Dream that she had, 
 and how the King of the Country where her Husband was, 
 had sent her an inviting Letter to come thither. 
 TTrs. Knuic* Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, and ichat do 
 
 nothing. 
 
 TIM. Ay, go she will, what ever come on't ; and methinks 
 I know it by this, for that which was my great Argument to 
 perswade her to stay at home, (to wit, the Troubles she was 
 like to meet with in the way) is one great Argument with her 
 to put her forward on her Journey. For she told me in so 
 many words, The bitter goes before the sweet. Yea, and for 
 as much as it so doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter. 
 
 MRS. BATS-EYES. Oh this blind and foolish Woman, said 
 Mrs. Bats-eyes. she, will she not take warning by her Hus- 
 band's Afflictions ? For 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. 
 
 Mrs. incon- Mrs. Inconsiderate also replied, saving, Away 
 
 6idemte '. with such Fantastical Fools from 'the Town, 
 
MERCY INCLINES TO GO 
 
 a good riddance, for my part, I say, of her. Should she 
 stay where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could 
 live quietly by her ? for she will either be dumpish or 
 unneighborly, or talk of such matters as no wise body can 
 abide. Wherefore for my part I shall never be sorry for 
 her departure, let her go and let better come in her room ; 
 "'twas never a good World since these whimsical Fools dwelt 
 in it. 
 
 Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth. Come put 
 this kind of Talk away. I was Yesterday at Mrg L[ ht _ 
 Madame Wantons, where we were as merry as mind, Madam 
 the Maids. For who do you think should be that had like to 
 there, but I, and Mrs. Love-the-fesh, and three j^^JS^ 
 or four more with Mr. Lechery -, Mrs. Filth, and in tune past, 
 some others. So there we had Musick and 
 dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And 
 I dare say my Lady herself is an admirably well bred Gentle- 
 woman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. 
 
 By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Merc?/ 
 went along with her. So as they went, her Children being 
 
 there also, Christiana began to discourse. And, Discourse 
 t r .j .07 ... T i , , betwixt Mercy 
 
 Mercy, said Llinstiana, 1 take this as an un- and good 
 
 expected favour, that thou shouldest set foot Christiana. 
 out of Doors with me to accompany me a little in my 
 way. 
 
 MERCY. Then said young Mercy (for she was but young,) 
 
 If I thought it would be to purpose to go With Mercy inclines 
 
 you, I would never go near the Town any t09 - 
 more. 
 
 CHRIS. Well Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy Lot with 
 me. I well know what will be the end of our Christiana, 
 Pilgrimage, my Husband is where he would not 
 but be, for all the Gold in the Spanish Mines, with her. 
 Nor shalt thou be rejected, tho' thou goest but upon my 
 
222 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Invitation. The King who hath sent for me and my Children, 
 is one that delighteth in Mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will 
 hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant. 
 Yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and 
 me ; only go along with me. 
 
 MERCY. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall 
 Mercy Doubts be entertained? Had I this hope., but from one 
 
 of acceptance. ^ fan ^ j WQuld mak( , nQ ^.j. at ^ but 
 
 would go being helped by him that can-help, tho" 1 the way was 
 never so tedious. 
 
 CHRIS. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt 
 Christiana c ^ '-> g with me to the Wicket Gate, and there I 
 
 allures her to w i}} further enquire for thee. and if there thou 
 me Gate which . . , 
 
 * Christ, and shalt not meet with encouragement, I will be 
 
 ire for 6 content that thou shalt return to thy place. 
 
 I also will pay thee for thy Kindness which 
 thou shewest to me and my Children in thy accompanying of 
 us in our way as thou doest. 
 
 MERCY. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall 
 Mercy prays. follow, and the Lord grant that my Lot may 
 there fall even as the King of Heaven shall have his heart 
 upon me. 
 
 Christiana, then was glad at her heart, not only that she 
 Christiana na( ^ a Companion, but also for that she had 
 
 glad of Mercys prevailed with this poor Maid to fall in love 
 
 company. . x . 
 
 with her own Salvation. So they went on 
 together, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, 
 wherefore weepeth my Sister so ? 
 
 MERCY. Alas! said she, who can but lament that shall but 
 
 rightly consider what a State and Condition mil 
 
 Mercy grieves n i 
 
 for her carnal poor Relations are ?//, that yet remain in our 
 sinful Town? and that which makes my grief 
 the more heavy, is because they have no Instructor, nor any to 
 tell them what is to come. 
 
THE SLOUGH OF DISPOND 
 
 CHRIS. Bowels becometh Pilgrims. And thou dost for 
 thy Friends, as my good Christian did for me Christian's 
 when he left me : he mourned for that I would Prayers were 
 
 answered for his 
 
 not heed nor regard him, but his Lord and ours Relations after 
 did gather up his Tears, and put them into his 
 Bottle, and now both I, and thou, and these my sweet 
 Babes, are reaping the Fruit and benefit of them. I hope, 
 Mercy , 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. 
 
 Then said Mercy, 
 
 Let the most blessed be my guide, 
 If't be his blessed Will, 
 Unto his Gate, into his fold, 
 Up to his Holy Hill. 
 
 And let him never suffer me, 
 To swerve, or turn aside 
 From his free grace, and Holy zvays, 
 What ere shall me betide. 
 
 And let him gather them of mine, 
 That I have left behind. 
 Lord make them pray they may be thine, 
 With all their heart and mind. 
 
 Now my old Friend proceeded and said, But when Chris- 
 tiana came up to the Slough of Dispond, she jpa rt page 18 
 began to be at a stand : For, said she, This is J 9> 20 - 
 the place in which my dear Husband had like to a been 
 smothered with Mud. She perceived also, that notwithstand- 
 ing the Command of the King to make this place for 
 Pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So 
 
THE TILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 I asked if that was true ? Yes, 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 
 T)ieirou-n King's Highway, that bring Dirt and Dung 
 
 ^onTinstwd'of instead of Stones, and so mar instead of mend- 
 the word of life. j n g > Here Christiana therefore with her Boys, 
 Mercy the did make a stand : but said Mercy, come let 
 
 boldest at the us venture, only let us be wary. Then they 
 
 Slough of -' i i i / 
 
 Dispond. looked well to the Steps, and made a shift to 
 
 get staggeringly over. 
 
 Yet Christiana had like to a 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 believeth, for there shall be a performance of the 
 things that have been told her from the Lord. 
 
 Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Christiana, 
 Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the 
 Wicket-Gate, as you, I think no Slough of Dispond would 
 discourage me. 
 
 Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I know mine; 
 and good friend, we shall all have enough evil before we come 
 
 o o 
 
 at our Journey's end. 
 
 For can it be imagined, that the people that design to 
 attain such 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 
 my self. Wherefore me-thought I saw Christiana, and Mercy 
 Prayer should and the Boys go all of them up to the Gate. 
 Consideration To which when they were come, they betook 
 and Fear: as themselves to a short debate, about how they 
 
 as in Faith 
 
 . 
 
 and Hope. must manage their calling at the Gate, and 
 
 what should be said to him that did open to them. So it was 
 
AT THE GATE 225 
 
 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 \ part, page $2. 
 knock, and 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- The Dog, the 
 ing upon them. A Dog and a great one too, Emmy'to 
 and this made the Women and Children afraid. Prayer. 
 Nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear the 
 Mastiff should fly upon them. Now therefore Christiana and 
 they were greatly tumbled up and down in j 
 their minds, and knew not what to do. Knock Prayer. 
 they durst not, for fear of the Dog: go back they durst 
 not for fear that 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 then they did at the first. Then said the Keeper 
 of the Gate, who is there ? So the Dog left off to bark and 
 
 o 
 
 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 ? 
 
 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 Coelestial City. And I answer, 
 my Lord in the next place, that I am Christiana once the 
 Wife of Christian, that now is gotten above. 
 
 With that the Keeper of the Gate did marvel, saying, 
 What is she 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, 
 
226 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Suffer the little Children to come unto me, and with that he 
 How shut up the Gate. This done, he called to a 
 
 Christiana is Trumpeter that was above over the Gate, to 
 
 entertained at L 
 
 the Gate. entertain Christiana with shouting and sound 
 
 of Trumpet for joy. So he obeyed and sounded, and filled 
 the Air with his Melodious Notes. 
 
 Now all this while, poor Mercy did stand without, tremb- 
 ling and crying for fear that she was rejected. But when 
 Christiana had gotten admittance for herself and her Boys, 
 then she began to make intercession for Mercy. 
 
 CHRIS. And she said, my Lord, I have a Companion of mine 
 Christianas ^hat stands yet without, that is come hither upon 
 Prayer for her the same account as myself. One that is much 
 
 friend Mercy. ,. 7 . 7 7 X ,j 7 7 
 
 dejected in her mind, jor that she comes, as she 
 thinks, without sending for, whereas I was sent to by my 
 HusbaiuVs King to come. 
 
 Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for each Minute 
 The delays make was as long to her as an hour, Wherefore she 
 toidThf" prevented Christiana from a fuller interceding 
 ferventer. f or her, by knocking at the Gate herself. And 
 
 she knocked then so loud, that she made Christiana to start. 
 Then said the Keeper of the Gate who is there ? And said 
 Christiana, it is my Friend. 
 
 So he opened the Gate, and looked out; but Mercy was 
 Mercy faints. fallen down without in a Swoon, for she fainted 
 and was afraid that no Gate would be opened to her. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and said, Damsel, I bid 
 thee arise. 
 
 O Sir, said she, I am 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 thy Holy Temple. Fear not, but stand upon thy 
 Feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come. 
 
 MEIICV. I am come, for that, unto which I was never 
 
MERCY FAINT 227 
 
 invited, as my Friend Christiana was. Hers was from the 
 King, and mine was but from her: Wherefore I fear I pre- 
 sume. 
 
 Did she desire thee to come with her to this Place ? 
 
 MERCY AT THE GATE. 
 
 MERCY. Yes. And as my Lord sees, I am come. And if 
 there is any Grace or forgiveness of Sins to The cause of 
 spare, I beseech that I thy poor Handmaid may * r /* ltff W' 
 be partaker thereof. 
 
 Then he took her again by the Hand, and led her gently 
 
 O J < ~> 
 
 in, and said, I pray for all them that believe on marie this. 
 me, by what means soever they come unto me. Then said 
 he to those that stood by, Fetch something, and give it 
 
228 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting. So they 
 fetcht her a Bundle of Myrrh, and awhile after she was 
 revived. 
 
 And now was Christiana and her Boys and Mercy received 
 of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto 
 by him. 
 
 Then said they yet further unto him, We are sorry for our 
 Sins, and beg of our Lord his Pardon, and further information 
 what we must do. 
 
 I grant Pardon, said he, by word, and deed ; by word in 
 the promise of forgiveness : by deed in the way I obtained it- 
 Take the first from my Lips with a Kiss, and the other, as it 
 shall be revealed. 
 
 Now 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 shewed them by what 
 deed they were saved, and told them withal, that that sight 
 Christ Crucified they would have again as they went along in the 
 
 seen afar off. ^ t() the j r com f ort . 
 
 So he left them awhile in a Summer Parlor below, where 
 Talk between they entred into talk by themselves. And thus 
 the Christians. Christiana began, O Lord! How glad am I, 
 that we are got in hither! 
 
 MERCY. So you well may ; but I, of all, have cause to leap 
 for joy. 
 
 CHRIS. / thought, one time, as I stood at the Gate (because 
 I had knocked and none did answer) that all our Labour had 
 been lost. Specially when that ugly Cur made such a heavy 
 barking against us. 
 
 o o 
 
 MERCY. But my worst Fears was after I saw that you was 
 taken in to his favour, and that I was left behind. Now 
 thought I "'tis fulfilled which is written. Two women shall be 
 
 o 
 
 Grinding' together, the one shall be taken, and the other left. 
 I had much ado to forbear crying out, Undone, Undone. 
 
THE BARKING DOG 229 
 
 And afraid I was to knock any more ; but when I looked 
 up to what was written over the Gate, I took Courage. 
 I also thought that I must either knock again i part, page 32. 
 or die. So I knocked ; but I cannot tell how, for my spirit 
 now struggled betwixt life and death. 
 
 oo 
 
 CHRIS. Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your 
 icere so earnest, that the very sound of ci 
 
 them made me start, I thought I never heard such Minks i^r 
 knocking' in all my Life. I thought you would prays better 
 a come in by violent hands, or a took the King- 
 dom l)y storm. 
 
 MERCY. Alas, to be in my Case, who that so was, could but 
 a done so ? You saw that the Door was shut upon me, and 
 that there was a most cruel Dog thereabout. Who, I say, 
 that was so faint hearted as I, that would not a knocked with 
 all their might ? But pray what said my Lord to my rude- 
 ness, was he not angry with me ? 
 
 CHRIS. When lie heard your lumbring noise, he gave a won- 
 derful innocent smile. I believe what you did christ pleased 
 pleas d him well enough. For he shewed no sign with loud and 
 
 7 . 7 v 7 restless praises. 
 
 to the contrary. But 1 marvel in my heart why 
 he keeps such a Dog; had I known that afore, 
 
 I fear I should not have had heart enough to ail it should 
 
 -. 7 /> ,7 TJ meet with in its 
 
 nave ventured myseLj in tins manner, nut now journey to 
 
 we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all 
 
 my heart. out - 
 
 MERCY. I will ask if you please next time he comes down, 
 why he keeps such a filthy Cur in his Yard. I hope he will 
 not take it amiss. 
 
 Ay do, said the Children, and perswade him to TIM oiuidren 
 hang him, for we are afraid he will bite us when ',/,'' ''j '',,"' 
 we go hence. 
 
 So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to 
 the Ground on her Face before him and worshipped, and 
 
230 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 said, Let my Lord accept of the Sacrifice of praise which 
 I now offer unto him, with the calves of my lips. 
 
 So he said unto her., Peace be to thee, stand iip. 
 
 But she continued upon her Face and said, Righteous 
 M art thou O Lord when I plead with thee, yet let 
 
 expostulates me talk with thee of thy Judgments, Wherefore 
 dost thou keep so cruel a Dog in thy Yard., at 
 the sight of 'which, such Women and Children as we, are ready 
 to JJy from thy Gate for fear? 
 
 He answered, and said ; That Dog has another Owner, he 
 Devil. also is kept close in another man's ground ; 
 
 i part, page 33. only my Pilgrims hear his barking. He belongs 
 to the Gastle which you see there at a distance, but can 
 come up to the walls of this place. He has frighted many 
 an honest Pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice 
 of his roaring. Indeed he that owneth him, doth not keep 
 him of any good will to me or mine ; but with intent to 
 keep the Pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be 
 afraid to knock at this Gate for entrance. Sometimes also 
 he has broken out, and has worried some that I love ; but 
 I take all at present patiently. I also {rive my 
 
 A Check to the . t t * r * . * 
 
 carnal fear of Pilgrims timely help ; so they are not delivered 
 
 the Pilgrims. -. i , i i i 
 
 up to his power to do to them what his 
 Doggish nature would prompt him to. But what ! My 
 purchased one, I tro, hadst thou known never so much 
 before hand, thou wouldst not a been afraid of a 
 Dog. 
 
 The Beggars that go from Door to Door, will, rather than 
 they will lose a supposed Alms, run the hazard of the bawling, 
 barking, .and biting too of a Dog: and shall a Dog, a Dog 
 in another Mans 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. 
 
CHRISTIANAS SONG 231 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, I confess my Ignorance : I spake 
 what I understood not : I acknowledge that thou 
 
 Christians 
 doest all things well. when wise 
 
 CHRIS. Then Christiana began to talk of e qttiesce m the 
 their Journey, and to enquire after the way. wisdom of their 
 So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set 
 them in the way of his Steps, according as i part, page 35. 
 he had dealt with her Husband before. 
 
 So I saw in my Dream, that they walkt on in their way, 
 and had the weather very comfortable to them. 
 
 Then Christiana began to sing, saying. 
 
 Bless^t 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: 
 Thus our beginning (as one saith) 
 Shews, 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 was to 
 go, a Garden ; and that Garden belonged to me Devils 
 him whose was that Barking Dog of whom 
 mention was made before. And some of the Fruit-Trees 
 that ffrew in that Garden shot their branches over the Wall, 
 
 o 
 
 and being mellow, they that found them did gather them 
 up and oft eat of them to their hurt. So Christianas Boys, 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 as Boys are apt to do, being pleas VI with the Trees, and 
 with the fruit that did hang thereon, did plash them and 
 The children began to eat. Their Mother did also chide 
 eat of the them for so doing; but still the Boys went 
 
 Enemy's Fruit. 
 
 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. Pll warrant you if she had, she would a been 
 ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on 
 their way. Now by that they were gone about two BowV 
 shot from the place that let them into the way, they espyed 
 TWO ni- two very ill-favoured ones coming down apace 
 
 favoured ones. to meet them< Wrfh that Christiana, and 
 
 Mercy her Friend covered themselves with their Vails, and 
 so kept on their Journey : the Children also went on before, 
 so that at last they met together. Then they that came 
 down to meet them, came just up to the Women, as if they 
 would embrace them : but Christiana said, Stand back, or go 
 They assault peaceably by as you should. Yet these two, 
 Christiana. as men \\ l& ^ arc d ea f ? regarded not Christianas 
 
 words ; but began to lay hands upon them ; at that Christiana 
 
 waxing very wroth, spurned at them with her feet. Mercy 
 
 also, as well as she could, did what she could 
 
 The pilgrims m < 11 
 
 struggle tvith to shift them. Christiana again, said to them, 
 Stand back and be gone, for we have no 
 Money to lose, being Pilgrims as ye see, and such too as 
 live upon the Charity of our Friends. 
 
 ILL-FA. 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. 
 
 CHRIS. 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 
 
THE RELIEVER 233 
 
 Business is a Business of Life and Death. So again she and 
 her Companions made a fresh assay to go past them. But 
 they letted them in their way. 
 
 ILL-FA. And they said, we intend no hurt to your lives, 'tis 
 another thing we would have. 
 
 CHRIS. Ay, quoth Christiana, you would have us Body and 
 Soul, for I know 'tis for that you are come ; but She cries out. 
 we Avill die rather upon the spot, then suffer ourselves to be 
 brought into such Snares as shall hazard our wellbeing here- 
 after. And with that they both Shrieked out, and cryed 
 Murder, Murder : and so put themselves under those 
 Laws that are provided for the Protection of Women. 
 But the men still made their approach upon them, with 
 design to prevail against them : They therefore cryed out 
 
 again. 
 
 Now they being, as I said, not far from the Gate in at 
 which they came, their voice was heard from , Tis ( t to 
 where they was, thither. Wherefore some of out u-hen ice are 
 
 . T f-r -. , , i , assaulted. 
 
 the House came out, and knowing that it was 
 Christiana 's Tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by 
 that they was got within sight of them, the Women was in 
 a . very great scuffle, the Children also stood crying by. 
 Then did he that came in for their relief, call The lf( , Uever 
 out to the Ruffians saying, AVhat is that thing comes. 
 that you do ? Would you make my Lord's People to trans- 
 gress ? He also attempted to take them : but they did make 
 their escape over the Wall into the Garden of the Man, 
 to whom the great Dog belonged, so the Dog 
 
 _ % i J. tic zit {./MCti fl ?/ 
 
 became their Protector. 1ms Reliever then to the devil fur 
 came up to the Women, and asked them how 
 they did. So they answered, we thank thy Prince, pretty 
 well, only we have been somewhat affrighted, we thank thee 
 also for that thou earnest in to our help, for otherwise we 
 had been overcome. 
 
234 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 RELIEVER. So after a few more words, this Reliever said, 
 as followeth : I marvelled much when you was 
 
 Th& JRclicva* 
 
 talks to the entertained at the Gate above, being ye 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 
 
 mark this. present blessing, that Dangers to come were 
 
 forgotten by us ; besides, who could have thought that so 
 near the King's Palace there should have lurked such 
 naughty ones ? Indeed it had been well for us had we asked 
 our Lord for one ; but since our Lord knew 'twould be for 
 our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us. 
 
 RELIE. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked 
 for, lest by so doing they become of little esteem ; 
 want of asking but when the want of a thing is felt, it then 
 comes under, in the Eyes of him that feels it, 
 that estimate that properly is its due, and so consequently 
 will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a Con- 
 ductor, you would not neither so have bewailed that oversight of 
 yours in not ashing for one, as now you have occasion to do. 
 So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary. 
 
 CHRIS. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess 
 our folly and ask one ? 
 
 RELIE. Your Confession of your folly, I will present him with: 
 to go back again, you need not. For in all places where you 
 shall come, you will find no want at all, for in every of my 
 Lord's Lodgings which he has prepared for the reception of his 
 Pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts 
 whatsoever. But, as I said, he will be inquired of by them to 
 do it for them; and ''tis a poor thing that is not worth asking 
 for. When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and 
 the Pilgrims went on their way. 
 
DISREGARDED DANGER 35 
 
 MKUCV. Then said Mercy, what a sudden blank is here ? 
 I made account we had now been past all The mistake of 
 danger, and that we should never see sorrow Mercy. 
 more. 
 
 CHRIS. Thy Innocency, my Sister, said Christiana to Mercy, 
 may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my fault Christiana's 
 is so much the greater, for that I saw this Guilt. 
 danger before I came out of the Doors, and yet did not 
 provide for it, where Provision might a been had. I am 
 therefore much to be blamed. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, how knew you this before yon 
 came from home? pray open to me this Riddle. 
 
 CHRIS. Why, I will tell you. Before I set Eoot 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 Beers-feet, plotting how 
 they might prevent my Salvation. I will tell you their very 
 words. They said, ("'twas when I was in my 
 
 ^ v J Christiana's 
 
 1 roubles,) What shall we do with this Woman? Dream re- 
 For she cries out waking and sleeping for for- 
 giveness : 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 a been had. 
 
 MERCY. AVell said Mercy, as by this neglect, we have an 
 occasion ministred unto us, to behold our own M^rcy makes 
 imperfections: so our Lord has taken occasion thff ff lt of 
 thereby, to make manifest the Riches of his Grace. duf y- 
 For he, as we see, has followed us with an unasked kindness, 
 and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than 
 we, of his mere good pleasure. 
 
 Thus now when they had talked away a little more time, 
 they drew nigh to an House which stood in the i part, page 36. 
 way., which House was built for the relief of Pilgrims, as 
 
236 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 you will find more fully related in the first part of these 
 Records of the Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on towards 
 the House, (the House of the Interpreter) and when they 
 Talk in the came to the Door they heard a great talk in 
 house about the House, they then gave ear, and heard, as 
 Christianas they thought, Christiana mentioned by name. 
 
 going on > J 
 
 pilgrimage. 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 Christianas Wife ; that 
 Woman who was some time ago, so unwilling to hear of 
 going on Pilgrimage. Thus therefore they stood still and 
 heard the good people within commending her, who they 
 little thought stood at the Door. At last Christiana 
 She knocks at knocked as she had done at the Gate before. 
 Now when she had knocked, there came to the 
 Door a young Damsel, and opened the Door and looked, and 
 behold two Women was there. 
 
 Tiiedooris DAMS. Then said the Damsel to them. With 
 
 opened to them whom would you speak in this place ? 
 
 CHRIS. Christiana answered, we understand 
 that this is a privileged place for those that are become 
 Pilgrims, and we now at this Door are such. Wherefore we 
 pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this 
 time are come ; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, 
 and we are loath to night to go any further. 
 
 DAMS. Pray what may I call your name, that I may tell it 
 to my Lord within ? 
 
 CHRIS. My name is Christiana, I was the Wife of that 
 Pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way, and these 
 be his four Children. This Maiden also is my Companion, 
 and is going on Pilgrimage too. 
 
 INNOCENT. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name) 
 and said to those within, Can you think who is at the Door ! 
 
THE INTERPRETERS HOUSE 237 
 
 There is Christiana and her Children, and her Companion, 
 all waiting for entertainment here. Then they - in the 
 leaped for Joy, and went and told their Master. house of the 
 
 TtitcTDTct^T that, 
 
 So he came to the Door, and looking upon her, Christiana is 
 he said, A rt thou that Christiana whom Christian turned Pil9rim - 
 the Good-man, left behind him, when he betook himself to a 
 Pilgrim's Life. 
 
 CHIUS. I am that Woman that was so hard-hearted as to 
 slight my Husband's troubles, and that left him to go on in 
 his Journey alone, and these are his four Children ; but now 
 I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but 
 this. 
 
 INTER. Then is fulfilled that which also is written of the 
 Man that said to his Son, go work to day in my Vineyard, 
 and lie said to his Father, I will not ; but afterwards repented 
 and went. 
 
 CHRIS. Then said Christiana, So be it, Amen. God made 
 it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found at 
 the last of him, in peace without spot and blameless. 
 
 INTER. But why standest thou thus at the Door ? Come in 
 thou Daughter of Abraham, we was talking of thee but now : 
 for tidings have come to us before, how thou art become a Pil- 
 grim. 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, old Saints glad 
 and they all smiled for Joy that Christiana was ^Swaik^ 
 become a Pilgrim. They also looked upon the Gods wa y s - 
 Boys, they stroaked them over the Faces with the Hand, in 
 token of their kind reception of them : they also carried it 
 lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all welcome into their 
 Master's House. 
 
238 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 After a while, because Supper was not ready, the Interpreter 
 The Significant took them into his Significant Rooms, and 
 Rooms - shewed them what Christian, Christianas Hus- 
 
 band had seen sometime before. Here therefore they saw 
 the Man in the Cage, the Man and his Dream, the man that 
 cut his ways thorough 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, 
 The Man ivith where was a man that could look no way but 
 the Muckrake downwards, with a Muckrcflce in his hand. 
 
 expounded. r , , , . , . . 
 
 1 here stood also one over Ins head with a 
 Cci'lestial Crown in his Hand, and proffered to give 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 perswade 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 shew his Carnal mind. And whereas thou seest 
 him rather give heed to rake up Straws and Sticks, and the 
 Dust of the Floor, than to what he says that calls to him 
 from above with the Coelestial Crown in his Hand ; it is to 
 show, that Heaven is but as a Eable to soine, and that things 
 here are counted the only things substantial. Now whereas 
 it was also shewed thee, that the man could look no way but 
 downwards, it is to let thee know that earthly things when 
 they are with Power upon Men's minds, quite carry their 
 hearts away from God. 
 Christiana's CHRIS. Then said Christiana, 0! deliver me 
 
 prayer against 7 . , r , , 
 
 the Muck-rake. JTOm tfllS MnCK-rake. 
 
OF THE SPIDER 239 
 
 INTER. That Prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till 
 'tis almost rusty : Give me not Riches, is scarce the Prayer 
 of one of ten thousand. Straws, and Sticks, and Dust, witk 
 most, are the great things now looked after. 
 
 With that Mercy, and Christiana wept, and said, It is alas ! 
 too true. 
 
 When the Interpreter had shewed 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 any thing 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 overlookt. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing; but Chris- 
 tiana held her peace. 
 
 INTER. But said the Interpreter, look again : she therefore 
 lookt again and said, Here is not any thing, Of the Spider. 
 but an ngly Spider, who hangs by her Hands upon the Wall. 
 Then said he, Is there but one Spider in all this spacious 
 
 room ? Then the water stood in Christiana's Eves, for she 
 
 / 
 
 was a Woman quick of apprehension : and she said, Yes, 
 Lord, there is here more than one. Yea, and Talk about the 
 Spiders whose Venom is far more destructive Spider. 
 then that which is in her. The Interpreter then looked 
 pleasantly upon her, and said, Thou hast said the Truth. 
 This made Mercy blush, and the Boys to cover their Faces: 
 For they all began now to understand the Riddle. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again, The Spider tciketh hold 
 with her hands as you see, and is in King's Palaces. And 
 wherefore is this recorded, but to shew you, that how full of 
 the Venom of Sin soever you be, yet you may The interpreta- 
 by the hand of Faith lay hold of, and dwell in tion - 
 the best Room that belongs to the King's House above ? 
 
 CHRIS. I thought, said Christiana, of something of this ; 
 but I could not imagine it all. I thought that we were like 
 
240 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Spiders, and that we looked like ugly Creatures, in what fine 
 Room soever we were. But that by this Spider, this venom- 
 ous 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. God has made nothing in vain. 
 
 Then they seemed all to be glad ; but the water stood in 
 their Eyes. Yet they looked one upon another, and also 
 bowed before the Interpreter. 
 
 He had them then into another Room where was a Hen 
 of the Hen and, an d Chickens, and bid them observe a while. 
 So one of the Chickens went to the Trough to 
 drink, 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. Yet again, said 
 he, observe and look : So they gave heed, and perceived that 
 the Hen did walk in a fourfold Method towards her Chickens. 
 
 1. She had a common call, and that she hath all day long. 
 
 2. She had a special call, and that she had but sometimes. 
 
 3. She had a brooding note, and 4. she had an out-cry. 
 Now, said he, compare this Hen to your King, and these 
 
 Chickens to his obedient ones. For answerable to her, him- 
 self has his Methods, which he walketh in towards his People. 
 By his common call, lie gives nothing; by his special call, he 
 always has something to give ; he has also a brooding voice, 
 for them that are under his Wing ; and he has an out-cry, to 
 give the Alarm when he seeth the Enemy come. I chose, my 
 Darlings, 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 more : 
 Of the Butcher So he had them into the Slaughter-house, where 
 and the Sheep. was a Butcher a killing of a Sheep : and behold 
 the Sheep was quiet, and took her Death patiently. Then 
 
PROFITABLE THINGS 
 
 said the Interpreter: you must learn of this Sheep, to suffer, 
 and to put up wrongs without murmuring* and complaints. 
 Behold how quietly she takes her Death, and without 
 objecting she suffereth her Skin to be pulled over her Ears. 
 Your King doth call you his Sheep. 
 
 After this, he led them into his Garden, where was great 
 variety of Flowers ; and he said, do you see all Of the Garden. 
 these ? So Christiana said, yes. Then said he again, Behold 
 the Flowers are divers in Stature, in Quality ', and Colour, and 
 Smell, and Virtue, and some are better than some : also where 
 the Gardener has set them, there they stand, and quarrel not 
 one with another. 
 
 Again, he had them into his Field, which he had sowed 
 with Wheat, and Corn : but when they beheld, Of the Field. 
 the tops of all was cut off, only the Straw remained. He 
 said again, This Ground was Dunged, and Plowed, and 
 Sowed ; but what shall we do with the Crop ? Then said 
 Christiana, burn some and make muck of the rest. Then said 
 the Interpreter again, Fruit you see is that thing you look for, 
 and for want of that you condemn it to the Fire, and to be 
 trodden under foot of men. Beware that in this you con- 
 demn not yourselves. 
 
 Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied 
 a little Robin with a great Spider in his mouth, ofthe RoUn 
 So the Interpreter said, look here. So they and the Spider. 
 looked, and Mercy wondred ; but Christiana said, what 
 a disparagement is it to such a little pretty Bird as the 
 Robin-red-breast is, he being also a Bird above many, that 
 loveth to maintain a kind of Sociableness with 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 
 
9AZ THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 seem also to have a very great Love for Professors that are 
 sincere ; and above all other to desire to associate with, and 
 to be in their Company, as if they could live upon the good 
 Man's Crumbs. They pretend also that therefore it is, that 
 they frequent the House of the Godly, and the appointments 
 of the Lord : but when they are by themselves, as the Robin, 
 they can catch and gobble up Spiders, they can change their 
 Diet, drink Iniquity, and swallow down Sin like Water. 
 
 So when they were come again into the House, because 
 Pray and you Supper as yet was not ready, Christiana again 
 wM/hletitef- desired that the Interpreter would either shew or 
 mireveaied. foil o f 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 0*v is, the more 
 gamesomly 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. 
 
 ''Tis easier watching' a night or two, than to sit up a whole 
 year together: So "'tis easier for one to begin to profess well, 
 than to hold out as he should to the end. 
 
 Every Ship-Master, when in a Storm, will willingly cast 
 that overboard that is of the smallest value in the Vessel ; but 
 who will throw the best out first ? none but he that f caret It 
 not God. 
 
 One leak will sink' a Ship, and one Sin will destroy a Sinner. 
 
 He that forgets his Friend is ungrateful unto him: but he 
 that forgets his Saviour is unmerciful to himself. 
 
 He that lives in Sin, and looks for Happiness hereafter, is 
 like him that soweth Cockle, and thinks to Jill his Barn with 
 Wheat or Barley. 
 
 If a man would live well, let him fetch his last Jay to Iiini, 
 and make it always his company- Keeper. 
 
THE PILGRIMS AT SUPPER 243 
 
 Whispering and change of thoughts, proves that Sin is in 
 the World. 
 
 If the World, which God sets light by, is counted a thing 
 of that worth with men: what is Heaven which God com- 
 mendeth ? 
 
 If the life that is attended with so many troubles, is so loth 
 to be let go by us, What is the life above ? 
 
 Every Body will cry up the goodness of Men ; but who is 
 there that is, as he should, affected with the Goodness of God? 
 
 We seldom sit down to Meat, but we eat, and leave : So there 
 is in Jesus Christ more Merit and Righteousness than the whole 
 World has need of. 
 
 When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his 
 Garden again, and had them to a Tree whose O f the Tl . ee 
 inside was Rotten, and gone, and yet it gre\\ that is rotten at 
 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 God : who with their mouths speak high 
 in behalf of God, but indeed will do nothing for him : whose 
 Leaves are fair, but their heart Good for nothing but to be 
 Tinder for the Devil's Tinder-Box. 
 
 Now supper was ready, the Table spread, and all things set 
 on the Board ; so they sate down and did eat They are at 
 when one had given thanks. And the Interpreter Su PP er - 
 did usually entertain those that lodged with him with Musick 
 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? 
 
 K 
 
244 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 When the Song and Musick was ended, the Interpreter 
 Talk at Supper, asked Christiana, What it was that at Jlrst did 
 move her to betake herself to a Pilgrims Life ? 
 
 Christiana answered. First, the loss of my Husband came 
 into my mind, at which I was heartily grieved : 
 
 A Repetition of J . & 
 
 Christiana's but all that was but natural Affection. Then 
 after that, came the Troubles, and Pilgrimage 
 of my Husband's into my mind, and also how like a Churl 
 I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of 
 my mind, and would have drawn me into the Pond ; but that 
 opportunely I had a Dream of the well-being of my Husband, 
 and a Letter sent me by the King of that Country where my 
 Husband dwells, to come to him. The Dream and the Letter 
 together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to 
 this way. 
 
 INT EII. But met you with no opposition afore you set out of 
 Doors ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes, a Neighbor of mine one Mrs. Timorous, (She 
 was akin to him that would have perswaded my Husband to 
 go back for fear of the Lions.) She all-to-be-fooled me for, 
 as she called it, my intended desperate adventure ; she also 
 urged \vhat 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. But a Dream that I had of 
 two ill-lookt ones, that I thought did plot how to make me 
 miscarry in my Journey, that hath troubled me mtich : -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. Yea, I may tell my Lord, 
 tho" 1 I would not have everybody know it, that between this 
 and the Gate by which we got into the way, we were both so 
 sorely assaulted, that we were made to cry out Murder, and 
 the two that made this assault upon us, were like the two 
 that I saw in my Dream. 
 
MERCY QUESTIONED 245 
 
 Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good, thy latter 
 end shall greatly increase. So he addressed himself to Mercy, 
 and said unto her, And what moved thec to come A question put 
 hither, sweet-heart ? to Merc y- 
 
 MERCY. Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while 
 continued 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 
 Experience, is that that makes me covet to be Mercy's an&ver. 
 in silence, and that also that fills me with fears of coming 
 short at last. I cannot tell of Visions, and Dreams, as 
 my friend Christiana can ; nor know I what it is to mourn 
 for my refusing of the Counsel of those that were good 
 Relations. 
 
 INTER. What was it then, dear-heart, that hath prevailed 
 with thee to do as thou hast done ? 
 
 MERCY. Why, when our friend here, was packing up to go 
 from our Town, I and another went accidentally to see her. 
 So we knocked at the Door and went in. When we were 
 within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked what was her 
 meaning. She said she was sent for to go to her Husband, 
 and then she up and told us, how she had seen him in a Dream, 
 dwelling in a curious place among Immortals wearing a Crown, 
 playing upon a Harp, eating and drinking at his Prince's 
 Table, and singing Praises to him for bringing him thither, 
 &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 
 
246 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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. 
 
 INTER. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given credit 
 to the truth. Thou art a Ruth^ who did for the love that 
 she bore to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, leave Father 
 and Mother, and the land of her Nativity to come out, and 
 go with a People that she knew not heretofore, The Lord 
 recompence tliy ivorlc, and a full reward be given thee of the 
 Lord God of Israel, under whose icings thou art come to trust. 
 
 Now Supper was ended, and Preparations was made for 
 
 They address Bed tlle Women were laid sin gty alone a d 
 
 themselves for the Boys by themselves. Now when Mercy 
 bed. 
 
 Mercy's good was in Bed, she could not sleep for joy, for 
 
 that now her doubts of missing at last were 
 
 removed further from her than ever they were before. So 
 
 / 
 
 she lay blessing and praising God who had had such favour 
 for her. 
 
 In the Morning they arose with the Sun, and prepared 
 themselves for their departure : but the Interpreter would 
 have them tarry awhile, for, said he, you must orderly go 
 from hence. Then said he to the Damsel that had 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 
 The Bath Garden, and brought them to the Bath: so 
 
 Sanctification. <.\\Q told them that there they must wash and 
 be clean, for so her Master would have the Women to do 
 that called at his House as they were going on Pilgrimage. 
 They wash in it. They then went in and washed, yea they and 
 the Boys and all, and they came out of that Bath not only 
 
 V ' ** 
 
SEALED AND CLOTHED 247 
 
 sweet, and clean ; but also much enlivened and strengthened 
 in their Joints. So when they came in they looked fairer 
 a deal, then when they went out to the washing. 
 
 When they were returned out of the Garden from the 
 Bath, the Interpreter took them and looked upon them and 
 said unto them, fair as the Moon. Then he called for the 
 Seal wherewith they used to be Sealed that They are 
 were washed in his Bath. So the Seal was sealed - 
 brought, and he set his Mark upon them, that they might 
 be known in the Places whither they were yet to go : Now 
 the seal was the contents and sum of the Passover which 
 the Children of Israel did eat when they came out from the 
 Land of Egypt, and the mark was set between their Eyes. 
 This seal greatly added to their Beauty, for it was an Orna- 
 ment to their Faces. It also added to their gravity and 
 made their Countenances more like them of Angels. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again to the Damsel that waited 
 upon these Women, Go into the Vestry and fetch out Gar- 
 ments for these People : so she went and fetched out white 
 Raiment, and laid it down before him ; so he commanded 
 them to put it on. It was fine Linen, white They are 
 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 herself, which they could 
 see in each other. Now therefore they began to esteem each 
 other better than themselves. For you are True humility. 
 fairer than I am, said one, and you are more comely than 
 I am, said another. The Children also stood amazed to see 
 into what fashion they were brought. 
 
 The Interpreter then called for a Man-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 
 
248 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Interpreter said, God speed. Those also that belonged to the 
 Family sent them away with many a good wish. So they 
 went on their way, and sung, 
 
 This place has been our second Stage, 
 Here we have heard and seen 
 Those good things that from Age to Age, 
 To others hid have been. 
 
 The Dunghill- raker ; Spider, Hen, 
 The Chicken too to me 
 Hath taught a Lesson, let me then 
 Conformed to it be. 
 
 The Butcher, Garden, and the Field, 
 The Robin, and his bait, 
 Also the Rotten-tree doth yield 
 Me Argument of Weight; 
 
 To move me for to watch and pray, 
 To strive to be sincere, 
 To take my Cross up day by day, 
 And serve the Lord with fear. 
 
 Now I saw in my L)ream that they went on, and Great- 
 heart went before them, so they went and came to the place 
 i part, page 46. where Christians Burthen fell off his Back, and 
 tumbled into a Sepulchre. Here then they made a pause, 
 and here also they blessed God. Now said Christiana, it 
 comes to my mind what was said to us at the Gate, to 
 wit, that we should have Pardon, by Word and Deed; by 
 Word, that is, by the promise ; by Deed, to wit, in the 
 way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know 
 something : but what is it to have Pardon by deed, or in 
 the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great-heart, I suppose 
 you know ; wherefore if you please let us hear your discourse 
 thereof. 
 
GREAT-HEARTS DISCOURSE 249 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Pardon by the deed done, is Pardon 
 obtained by some one for another that hath need thereof. 
 Not by the Person pardoned, but in the way, ^ comment 
 saith another, in which I have obtained it. So w *. n f'^jff 
 
 3 t said at the Gate, 
 
 then, to speak to the question more large, the or a discourse 
 pardon that you and Mercy and these Boys ^ustifiuiblj 
 have attained was obtained by another, to wit, c/hrist - 
 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. 
 
 CHRIS. But if he parts with his Righteousness to us, what 
 will he have for himself? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. He has more Righteousness than you have 
 need of, or than he needeth himself. 
 
 CHRIS. Pray make that appear. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. With all my heart ; but first I must premise 
 that he of whom we are now about to speak, is one that has 
 not his Fellow. He has two Natures in one Person, plain to 
 be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of these 
 Natures a Righteousness 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 Righteous- 
 ness 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 joyned in one. And this is not the 
 Righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the Man- 
 hood; nor the Righteousness of the Manhood, as distinguished 
 from the Godhead; but a Righteousness which standeth in 
 the Union of both Natures ; and may properly be called the 
 Righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God 
 to the capacity of the Mediatory Office which he was to be 
 intrusted with. If he parts with his first Righteousness, he 
 
250 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 parts with his Godhead ; if he parts with his second Righteous- 
 ness, 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 saith, as by one mans disobedience many were made 
 Sinners : so by the obedience of one shall many be made 
 Righteous. 
 
 o 
 
 CHRIS. But are the other Righteousnesses of no use to 
 us ? 
 
 GREAT-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 j ustifies is for that purpose efficacious. The Righteousness 
 of his Godhead gives Virtue to his Obedience ; the Righteous- 
 ness of his Manhood giveth capability to his obedience 
 to justify, and the Righteousness that standeth in the 
 Union of these two Natures to his Office, giveth Authority 
 to that Righteousness to do the work for which it is 
 ordained. 
 
 So then, here is a Righteousness that Christ, as God, has no 
 need of, for he is God without it : here is a Righteousness 
 that Christ, as Man, has no need of to make him so, for he 
 is perfect man without it. Again, here is a Righteousness 
 that Christ as God-man has no need of, for he is perfectly so 
 without it. Here then is a Righteousness that Christ, as God, 
 as Man, as God-man has no need of, with Reference to him- 
 self, and therefore he can spare it, a justifying Righteousness, 
 that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he giveth it 
 away. Hence 'tis called the gift of Righteousness. This 
 Righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord, has made himself 
 under the Law, must be given away. For the Law doth not 
 
THE GIFT OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 251 
 
 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 himself, and one to spare. 
 Wherefore he freely bestows one upon those that have none. 
 And thus Christiana, and Mercy, and the rest of you that are 
 here, doth your Pardon come by deed, or by the work of 
 another man ? Your Lord Christ is he that has worked, and 
 has given away what he wrought for to the next poor Beggar 
 he meets. 
 
 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 j ustified 
 by way of Redemption, a price being paid for the harms we 
 have done, and this is by the Blood of your Lord, who came 
 and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for 
 your Transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your 
 Transgressions, by Blood, and covered your polluted and 
 deformed Souls with Righteousness : for the sake of which, 
 God passeth by you, and will not hurt you, when he comes 
 to Judge the World. 
 
 CHRIS. This is brave. Now I see that there was something 
 to be learnt by our being pardoned by word and Christiana 
 deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this in 
 mind, and my Children do you remember it also. Redemption. 
 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 ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes, 'twas the belief of this that cut those 
 Strings that could not be cut by other means, HOW the strings 
 and 'twas to give him a proof of the Virtue of 
 
 this, that he was suffered to carry his burden to burden to him 
 
 ioc re cut. 
 
 the Cross. 
 
 K3 
 
252 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 CHRIS. / thought so, for tho my heart was lightful and 
 
 joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous 
 
 now. And I am perswaded by what I hare felt, the? I have 
 
 felt but little as yet, that if the most burdened Man in the 
 
 World was here, and did see and believe, as I now do, "'twould 
 
 make his heart the more merry and blithe. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. There is not only comfort, and the ease of 
 a Burden brought to us, by the sight and Con- 
 
 How affection ' . 
 
 sidcration of these; but an indeared Affection 
 
 begot in us by it. For who can, if he doth but 
 once think that Pardon comes not only by promise but thus, 
 but be affected with the way and means of his Redemption, 
 and so with the man that hath wrought it for him ? 
 
 CHRIS. True, nwthinks it makes my Heart bleed to think 
 that he should bleed for me. Oh! thou loving one, Oh! thou 
 Cause of ad- Blessed one. Thou deservest to have me, thou 
 
 hast bought me : Thou deservest to have me all, 
 thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am 
 i part, page 46. worth. No marvel that this made the water stand 
 in my Husband' 1 s Eyes, and that it made him trudge so 
 nimbly ou. I am perswaded he wislied me with him ; but vile 
 Wretch, that I was, I let him come all alone. O Mercy, that 
 thy Father and Mother were here, yea, and Mrs. Timorous 
 also. Nay, I wish now with all my Heart, that here tvas 
 Madam AVanton too. Surely, surely, their Hearts would 
 be ajfected, 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. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. You speak now in the warmth of your 
 Affections : will it, think you, be always thus with you ? 
 
 / ' ' 
 
 Besides, this is not communicated to every one, nor to every 
 one that did see your Jesus bleed. There was that stood by. 
 
 V / ' 
 
 nnd that saw the Blood run from his heart to the Ground, 
 and yet were so far off this, that instead of lamenting, they 
 
SLOTH AND FOLLY 253 
 
 laughed at him, and instead of becoming his Disciples, did 
 harden their hearts against him. So that all 
 
 To be affected 
 
 that you have, my Daughters, you have by a with Christ and 
 
 -, . . , TX with what he 
 
 peculiar impression made by a Divine con- has done is a 
 
 templating upon what I have spoken to you. thing special. 
 Remember that 'twas told you, that the Hen by her common 
 call, gives no meat to her Chickens. This you have therefore 
 Jjy 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, simple and 
 and Presumption lay and slept in, when Chris- siothand 
 
 i- L i ' -n-l A J u I. u j.i Presumption 
 
 tian went by on Pilgrimage. And behold they hanged, and 
 were hanged up in Irons a little way off on the 
 other-side. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy to him that was their Guide and 
 
 / 
 
 Conductor, What are those three men ? and for what are they 
 hanged there ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. These 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 perswade with, they 
 made so too, and withal taught them to presume that they 
 should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went 
 by, and now you go by they are hanged 1 . 
 
 MERCY. But could they perswade any to be of their Opinion? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Yes, they turned several out of the wav. 
 There was Slow-pace that they perswaded to do Their crimes. 
 as they. They also prevailed with one Short- who they pre- 
 wind, with one No-heart, with one Linger-after- ^ ailed U P"* 
 
 o / turn out oftha 
 
 lust, and with one Sleepy -head, and with a young 
 
 1 Behold here how the slothful are a sign 
 Hung tf/>, *cause holy ways they did decline. 
 See here too how the Child doth play the man 
 And weak grow islrony, when Great-heart leads the Van. 
 
254 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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, perswading others that he was a task-Master. 
 They also brought up an evil report of the good Land, saying, 
 'twas 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 busy-Bodies. Further, they 
 w r ould call the Bread of God Husks ; the Comforts of his 
 Children Fancies ; the Travel and Labour of Pilgrims things 
 to no Purpose. 
 
 CHRIS. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall 
 never be bewailed by me , they have but what they deserve, and 
 1 think it is well that they hang so near the High-way that 
 others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if 
 their Crimes had been ingraven in some Plate of Iron or Brass, 
 and left here, even where they did their Mischiefs, for a caution 
 to other bad Men. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. So it is, as you well may perceive if you will 
 go a little to the Wall. 
 
 MERCY. No, no, let them hang, and their Names Rot, and 
 
 their Crimes live for ever against them. I think it a high 
 
 favour that they were hanged afore we came hither, who knows 
 
 else what they might a done to such poor women as we are ? 
 
 Then she turned it into a Song, saying, 
 
 Now then you three, hang there and be a Sign 
 To all that shall against the Truth combine : 
 And let him that comes after fear this end, 
 If unto Pilgrims he is not a Friend. 
 
 And thou my Soul of all such men beware, 
 That unto Holiness Opposers are. 
 
 Thus they went on till they came at the foot of the Hill 
 i part, page 52. Difficulty. Where again their good Friend, 
 
THE HILL DIFFICULTY 255 
 
 Mr. Great-heart took an occasion to tell them of what 
 happened there when Christian himself went , Ti3 
 
 by. So he had them first to the Spring. Lo, getting of good 
 
 J 7 . Doctrine in 
 
 saith he, This is the Spring that Christian drank erroneous 
 of before he went up this Hill, and then 'twas 
 clear, and good; but now 'tis Dirty with the feet of 
 some that are not desirous that Pilgrims here should 
 quench their Thirst. Thereat Mercy said, And why so 
 envious tro9 But said their Guide, It will do, if taken 
 up, and put into a Vessel that is sweet and good ; for 
 then the Dirt will sink to the bottom, and the Water 
 come out by itself more clear. Thus therefore Christiana 
 and her Companions were compelled to do. They took 
 it up, and put it into an Earthen-pot, and so let it stand 
 till the Dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank 
 thereof. 
 
 Next he shewed them the two by-ways that were at the 
 foot of the Hill, where Formality and Hypo- R _ athg tho , 
 crisy, lost themselves. And, said he, these are barred up will 
 dangerous Paths. Two were here cast away fronting in 
 when Christian came by. And although, as them - 
 
 . i part, page 53. 
 
 you see, these ways are since stopt up with 
 
 Chains, Posts, and a Ditch, yet there are that will chuse to 
 
 adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this 
 
 Hill. 
 
 CHRIS. The Way of Transgressors is hard. 'Tis a wonder 
 that they can get into those ways, without danger of breaking 
 their Necks. 
 
 GREATHEART. They will venture ; yea, if at any time any 
 of the King's Servants doth happen to see them, and doth 
 call unto them, and tell them that they are in the wrong 
 ways, and do bid them beware the danger ; then they will 
 railingly return them answer and say, As for the Word that 
 thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the King, we will not 
 
25(5 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 hearken unto thee , but we will certainly do whatsoever thing' 
 goeth out of our own Mouths, c. Nay if you look a little 
 farther, you shall see that these ways, are made cautionary 
 
 ' J / W 
 
 enough, not only by these Posts, and Ditch and Chain but 
 also by being hedged up. Yet they will choose to go there. 
 CHRIS. They are Idle, they love not to take Pains, vp-hiU- 
 TJte reason why way is unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto 
 
 t m go d inb*r them a * {i '* Written. The way of the slothful 
 a y s - man is a Hedge of Thorns. Yea, they will rather 
 
 chuse to walk upon a Snare than to go np this Hill, and the 
 rest of this way to the City. 
 
 Then they set forward, and began to go up the Hill, and 
 up the Hill they went ; but before thev got 
 
 The Hill puts . J * to 
 
 the Piiffrims to to the top, Llirtstiana began to rant, and said, 
 I daresay this is a breathing Hill ; no marvel if 
 they that love their ease more than their Souls, chuse to 
 themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit 
 down ; also the least of the Children began to cry. Come, 
 come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above 
 is the Prince's Arbor. Then took he the little Bov bv the 
 
 * v 
 
 Hand, and led him up thereto. 
 
 When they were come to the Arbor, thev were very willing; 
 
 / J J O 
 
 They sit in th* to sit down, for the y were al1 in a pelting heat. 
 Arbor. Then said Mercy, How sweet is rest to them 
 
 that Labour? And how good is the Prince of 
 Pilgrims, to provide such resting places for them ? Of this 
 Arbor I have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But 
 here let us beware of sleeping : for as I have heard, for that 
 it cost poor Christian dear. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come my 
 pretty Boys, how do you do? what think vou now of going 
 The little Boys on Pilgrimage ? Sir, said the least. I was 
 "jitide* and also almost beat out of heart ; but I thank vou for 
 to Mercy. lending me a hand at my need. And I remem- 
 
CHRISTIANAS BOTTLE FORGOTTEN 257 
 
 her now what my Mother has told me, namely, That the way 
 to Heaven is as up a Ladder, and the way to Hell is as down 
 a Hill. But I had rather go up the Ladder to Life, than 
 down the Hill to Death. 
 
 Then said Mercy, But the Proverb is, To go down the Hill 
 
 is easy. But James said (for that was his 
 
 & ... . Which is hard- 
 
 Name) The. day is coming when in my Opinion, estupHiii,or 
 
 going" 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. 
 
 CHRIS. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a little to 
 sweeten your Mouths, while you sit here to rest They refresh 
 your Legs ? For I have here a piece of Pom- 
 granate which Mr. Interpreter put in my Hand, just when 
 I came out of his Doors ; he gave me also a piece of an 
 Honey-comb, and a little Bottle of Spirits. I thought he 
 gave you something, said Mercy, because he called you 
 a to-side. Yes, so he did, said the other. But Mercy, it 
 shall still 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 eat, both Mercy, and 
 the Boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, Sir 
 will you do as we ? But he answered, You are going on 
 Pilgrimage, and presently I shall return ; much Good may 
 what you have, do to you. At home I eat the same every 
 day. Now when they had eaten and drank, and had 
 chatted a little longer, their guide said to them, The day 
 wears away, if you think good, let us prepare to be going. 
 So they got up to go, and the little Boys went before ; But 
 Christiana foreat to take her Bottle of Spirits 
 
 & Christiana jvr- 
 
 with her, so she sent her little Boy back to gets her Bottle 
 
 v ^ Cl * 
 
 fetch it, Then said Mercy, I think this is 
 
258 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 a losing Place. Here Christian lost his Roll, and here 
 Christiana left her Bottle behind her ; Sir, what is the cause 
 of this ? so their guide made answer and said, The cause is 
 sleep or forgetfulness , some sleep, when they should keep 
 awake; and some forget, when they should remember; and 
 this is the very cause why often at the resting places some 
 Mark this. Pilgrims in some things come ofFlosers. Pilgrims 
 
 should "watch and remember what they have already received 
 under their greatest enjoyments. But for want of doing so, 
 oft times their rejoicing ends in Tears, and their Sunshine 
 i part, page 55. in a Cloud : witness the story of Christian at 
 
 ' 
 
 this place. 
 
 When they were come to the place where Mistrust and 
 Timorous met Christian to perswade 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 that sees this Stage take heed 
 Unto his Heart and Tongue : 
 Lest, if he do not, here lie speed 
 As some have long agone. 
 
 The words underneath the Verses were, This Stage was 
 built to punish such upon who through Timorousness or Mis- 
 trust, shall be afraid to go further on Pilgrimage. Aho on 
 this Stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burned thorough 
 the Tongue with an hot Iron, for endeavouring to hinder 
 Christian in his Journey. 
 
 Then said Mercy. This is much like to the saying of the 
 beloved, What shall be given unto thee ? or what shall be done 
 unto thee thou false Tongue? sharp Arrows of the mighty, 
 with Coals of < Juniper. 
 
OF GRIM THE GIANT 259 
 
 So they went on, till they came within sight of the Lions. 
 Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he i part, page 57. 
 was not afraid of a Lion. But yet when they An Emblem of 
 were come up to the place where the Lions those that go on 
 
 bravely when 
 
 were, the Boys that went before were glad to there is no 
 cringe behind, for they were afraid of the shrS token 
 Lions, so they stept back and went behind. At troubles come - 
 this their guide smiled, and said, How now my Boys, do you 
 love to go before when no danger doth approach, and love 
 to come behind so soon as the Lions appear ? 
 
 Now as they went 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 of Grim the 
 taken upon him to back the Lions. And he 
 said to the Pilgrims'* guide, What is the cause Lions. 
 of your coming hither ? Now the name of that man was 
 Grim, or Bloody '-man, because of his slaying of Pilgrims, and 
 he was of the race of the Giants. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said the Pilgrims' guide, These 
 Women and Children are going on Pilgrimage, and this is the 
 way they must go, and go it they shall in spite of thee and 
 the Lions. 
 
 GRIM. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. 
 I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will back 
 the Lions. 
 
 Now to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the Lions, 
 and of the Grim Carriage of him that did back them, this 
 way had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost all 
 grown over with Grass. 
 
 CHRIS. Then said Christiana, tho' the Highways have been 
 unoccupied heretofore, and tho 1 the Travellers have been 
 made in time past to walk thorough by-Paths, it must not be 
 so now I am risen, Now I am risen a Mother in Israel. 
 
 GRIM. Then he swore by the Lions, but it should ; and.. 
 
2(50 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 therefore bid them turn aside, for they should not have 
 passage there. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. 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. 
 
 GRIM. Then said he (that attempted to back the Lions) 
 will you slay me upon mine own Ground ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. 'Tis the King's High-way that we are in, 
 
 A n htbettvixt an( ^ ni ^ s wa ^ ^ * s that thou hast placed thy 
 Grim and Lions ; but these Women, and these Children, 
 
 tho"* weak, shall hold on their way in spite of 
 thy Lions. And with that he gave him again a down-right 
 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 sprawling 
 The Victory. upon the Ground. Now the Lions were chained, 
 and so of themselves could do nothing. Wherefore when old 
 Grim that intended to back them was dead, Mr. Great-heart 
 said to the Pilgrims, Come now and follow me, and no hurt 
 Then pass by shall happen to you from the Lions. They there- 
 tfie Lions. f ore wen ^ on . \y u ^ ^he Women trembled as they 
 
 
 
 passed by them, the Boys also look't as if they would die; 
 but they all got by without further hurt. 
 
 Now then they were within SmTit of the Porter''* Lodge, 
 
 * o o 
 
 and they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more 
 haste after this to go thither, because 'tis dangerous travelling 
 
 O ' O O 
 
 there in the Night. So when they were come 
 
 The ij come fo J 
 
 the Porter's to the Gate, the guide knocked, and the Porter 
 
 cried, who ?'.v there? but as soon as the Guide 
 had said, it Is /, 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 *uw not 
 
MR. GREAT-HEART GOES BACK 263 
 
 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. 
 
 PORTER. Will you not go in, and stay till Morning ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. No, I will return to my Lord Great-heart 
 to night. . lf pts to 9 
 
 CHRIS. Oh Sir, I know not how to be willing 
 
 The Pilgrims 
 
 you should leave us in our Pilgrimage, you implore his 
 have been so faithful, and so loving to us, you 
 have fought so stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in 
 counselling of us, that I shall never forget your favour 
 towards us. 
 
 MERCY. 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 youngest of the Boys, Pray 
 Sir, be perswaded to go with us, and help us, because we are 
 so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. I am at my Lord's Commandment. If 
 he shall allot me to be your guide quite thorough, I will 
 willingly wait upon you. But here you failed Rel lost r 
 at first; for when he bid me come thus far want of asking 
 
 for 
 
 with you, then you should have begged me of 
 him to have gone quite thorough with you, and he would 
 have granted your request. However, at present I must 
 withdraw, and so good Christiajia, Mercy, and my brave 
 Children, Adieu. 
 Then the Porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Chris- part i, page 59. 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 tiana of her Country, and of her Kindred, and she said, 
 
 / * 
 
 Christiana ^ came from the City of Destruction, I am 
 
 makes hen-elf a Widow Woman, and mil Husband is dead, his 
 
 known to the /~n *" ? 
 
 Porter, he tells Name was Christian the Pilgrim. How, said 
 the Porter, was lie your Husband ? Yes, said 
 she, and these are his Children ; and this, pointing to Mercy, 
 is one of my Town's- Women. Then the Porter rang his Bell, 
 as at such times lie is wont, and there came to the Door one 
 of the Damsels whose Name was Humble-mind. And to her 
 the Porter said, Go tell it within that Christiana the Wife of 
 Christian and her Children are come hither on Pilgrimage. 
 7 She went in therefore and told it. But Oh, 
 
 Joy at the noise 
 
 of the Pilgrims what a 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 
 thcc. So she went in, and they followed her that were her 
 
 / 
 
 Children, and her Companions. Now when they were gone 
 in, they were had into a very large Room, where they were 
 bidden to sit down. So they sat down, and the chief of the 
 Christians love House was called to see, and welcome the Guests. 
 
 i S ightofone the Then the J came in > lllld > understanding who 
 another. they were, did salute each other with a kiss, 
 
 and said, Welcome ve Vessels of the Grace of God, welcome 
 
 ^ 
 
 to us vour Friends. 
 
 / 
 
 Now because it was somewhat late, and because the Pil- 
 grims were weary with their Journey, and also made faint 
 
 */ +> * 
 
 with the sight of the fight, and of the terrible Lions ; there- 
 fore 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 
 
MERCYS DREAM 265 
 
 a Lamb, with the accustomed Sauce belonging thereto. For 
 the Porter had heard before of their coming, and had told 
 it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended 
 their Prayer with a Psalm, they desired they might go to rest. 
 But let us, said Christiana, if we may be so bold as to chuse, 
 be in that Chamber that was my Husband's, i part, page 65. 
 when he was here. So they had them up thither, and they 
 lay all in a Room. When they were at Rest, Christiana 
 and Mercy entred into discourse about things that were 
 convenient. 
 
 CHRIS. Little did I think' once, that when my Husband went 
 on Pilgrimage, I should ever a followed. 
 
 MERCY. And you as little thought of lying Crisis Bosom 
 in his Bed, and in his Chamber to Rest, as you is for all 
 
 1 Pilgrims. 
 
 do now. 
 
 CHRIS. 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. 
 
 MERCY. Hark, don't you hear a Noise ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes, ''tis as I believe, a Noise of Musick, for joy 
 that we are here. 
 
 MERCY. Wonderful ! Musick in the House, Mustek. 
 Musick in the Heart, and Musick also in Heaven, for joy 
 that we are here. 
 
 Thus they talked a while, and then betook themselves to 
 sleep ; so in the Morning, when they were awake, Christiana 
 said to Mercy. 
 
 CHRIS. What was the matter that you did 
 
 J Mercy did 
 
 laugh in your sleep to Night ? I suppose you laugh in her 
 
 T\ a sleep. 
 
 was in a Dream ? 
 
 MERCY. So I was, and a sweet Dream it was ; but are you 
 sure I laughed ? 
 
 CHRIS. Yes, you laughed heartily ; bid prithee Mercy tell vie 
 thy Dream ? 
 
266 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 MERCY. I was a dreamed that I sat all alone in a solitary 
 Mercy's place, and was bemoaning of the hardness of 
 
 Dream. 
 
 Now I had not sat there long, but methought many were 
 gathered about me, to see me, and to hear what it was that 
 I said. So they hearkened, and I went on bemoaning the 
 hardness of my Heart. At this, some of them laughed at me, 
 some called me Fool, and some began to thrust me about. 
 ^viiat her With that, methought I looked up, and saw 
 
 dream was. one CO ming with Wings towards me. So he 
 came directly to me, and said, Mercy, what aileth thee ? 
 Now when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, 
 Peace be to thee : he also wiped mine Eyes with his Hand- 
 kerchief, 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. 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 ? 
 
 CHRIS. Laugh ! Ay, and well you might to see yourself so 
 well. For 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 
 Jirst part true, so you shall Jind the second at last. God 
 speaks once, yea twice, yet Man perceiveth it not. In a 
 Dream, in a Vision of the Night, when deep Sleep falleth 
 upon Men, in slumbring upon the Bed. We need not, when 
 a-Bed, lie awake to talk with God. He can visit us while we 
 sleep, and cause us then to hear his Voice. Our Heart oft 
 times wakes when we skep, and God can speak to that, either 
 
THE VISIT PROLONGED 267 
 
 by Words, by Proverbs, by Signs, and Similitudes, as well 
 as if one was awake. 
 
 MERCY. Well, I am glad of my Dream, for I hope ere long 
 to see it fulfilled, to the making of me laugh Mercy glad of 
 again. her dream > 
 
 CHRIS. / think' it is now high time to rise, and to If now what 
 we must do ? 
 
 MERCY. Pray, if they invite us to stay a while, let us 
 willingly accept of the proffer. I am the willinger to 
 stay a while here, to grow better acquainted with these 
 Maids ; methinks Prudence, Piety and Charity, have very 
 comely and sober Countenances. 
 
 CHRIS. We shall see what they will do. So when they were 
 up and ready, they came down. And they asked one another 
 of their rest,, and if it was comfortable, or not? 
 
 MERCY. Very good, said Mercy, it was one of the best Nighfs 
 Lodging that ever I had in my Life. 
 
 Then said Prudence, and Piety, if you will be perswaded to 
 stay here awhile, you shall have what the House They stay here 
 will afford. ' * ome time - 
 
 CHARITY. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity. 
 So they consented, and stayed there about a Month or above, 
 and became very Profitable one to another. And because 
 Prudence would see how Christiana had brought prudence de- 
 tip her Children, she asked leave of her to aS&SH^ 
 catechise them ? So she gave her free consent. Children. 
 Then she began at the youngest whose Name was James. 
 
 PRUDENCE. And she said, Come James, canst j ames 
 thou tell who made thee ? Catechised. 
 
 JAMES. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy- 
 Ghost. 
 
 PRUD. Good Boy. And canst thou tell who saves thee? 
 
 JAM. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy 
 Ghost. 
 
268 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 PRUD. Good Boy still. But how doth God the Father save 
 thee? 
 
 JAM. By his Grace. 
 
 PRUD. How doth God the Son save thee 9 
 
 JAM. By his Righteousness, Death, and Blood, and Life. 
 
 PRUD. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? 
 
 JAM. By his Illumination, by his Renovation, and by his 
 Preservation. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be com- 
 mended 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 youngest next. 
 
 PRUD. Then she said, Come Joseph (for his Name 
 Joseph was Joseph), will you let me Catechise 
 
 Catechised. voil ? 
 
 JOSEPH. With all my Heart. 
 
 PRUD. What is Man ? 
 
 JOSEPH. A Reasonable Creature, so made by God, as my 
 Brother said. 
 
 PRUD. What is supposed by this Word, saved ? 
 
 JOSEPH. That man by Sin has brought himself into a State 
 of Captivity and Misery. 
 
 PRUD. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity ? 
 
 JOSEPH. That Sin is so great and mighty a Tyrant, that 
 none can pull us out of its clutches but God, and that God is 
 so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this 
 Miserable State. 
 
 PRUD. What is God's design in saving" of poor Men ? 
 
 JOSEPH. The glorifying of his Name, of his Grace, 
 and Justice, <$r. And the everlasting Happiness of his 
 Creature. 
 
 PRUD. Who are they that mmt be saved ? 
 
 JOSEPH. Those that accept of his Salvation. 
 
THE BOYS CATECHISED 269 
 
 Good Boy, Joseph, thy Mother has taught thee well, and 
 thou hast hearkened to what she has said unto thee. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the eldest but 
 one. 
 
 PRUD. Come Samuel, are you willing that I should Cate- 
 chise you also? Samud 
 
 SAMUEL. Yes, forsooth, if you please. Catechised. 
 
 PRUD. What is Heaven? 
 
 SAM. A Place and State most blessed, because God dwelleth 
 there. 
 
 PRUD. What is Hell? 
 
 SAM. A Place and State most woful, because it is the 
 dwelling place of Sin, the Devil, and Death. 
 
 PRUD. Why wouldest thou go to Heaven ? 
 
 SAM. That I may see God, and serve him without weari- 
 ness ; 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. 
 
 PRUD. 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. 
 
 MAT. With a very good Will. 
 
 PRUD. / ask then, if there was ever any thing tJtat had 
 a being antecedent to, or before God ? 
 
 MAT. No, for God is Eternal, nor is there any thing 
 excepting himself that had a being until the beginning of 
 the first day. For in six days the Lord made Heaven and 
 Earth, the Sea and all that in them is. 
 
 PRUD. What do you think of the Bible ? 
 
 MAT. It is the Holy Word of God. 
 
 PRUD. Is there nothing written therein but what you under- 
 stand ? 
 , MAT. Yes, a great deal. 
 
270 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 PRUD. What do you do when you meet with such places 
 therein that you do not understand? 
 
 MAT. 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. 
 
 PRUD. How believe you as touching the Resurrection of the 
 Dead ? 
 
 MAT. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried : 
 
 / 
 
 the same in Nature, tho' not in Corruption. And I believe 
 this upon a double account. First because God has promised 
 it. Secondly, because he is able to perform it. 
 
 Then said Prudence to the Boys, You must still hearken 
 
 / y 
 
 Prudences to your Mother, for she can learn you more. 
 
 You must also diligently give ear to what good 
 of the Boys. talk you shall hear from others, for for your 
 sakes do they speak good things. Observe also and that 
 with carefulness, what the Heavens and the Earth do teach 
 you ; but especially be much in the meditation of that Book 
 that was the cause of your Father's becoming a Pilgrim. I for 
 my part, my Children, will teach you what I can while you 
 are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me Questions that 
 tend to godly edifying. 
 
 Now by that these Pilgrims had been at this place a week, 
 Mercy has a Mercy had a Visitor that pretended some good 
 will unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk. 
 A. man of some breeding, and that pretended to Religion ; 
 but a man that stuck very close to the World. So he came- 
 once or twice or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. 
 Now Mercy was of a fair Countenance, and therefore the more 
 alluring. 
 
 Her mind also was, to be always busying of herself in doing, 
 Mercys temper, for when she had nothing to do for herself, she 
 would be making of Hose and Garments for others, and 
 would bestow them upon them that had need. And Mr. Brisk 
 
MERCY AND MR. BRISK 271 
 
 not knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, 
 seemed to be greatly taken for that he found her never 
 idle. I will warrant her a good Huswife, quoth he to 
 himself. 
 
 Mercy then revealed the business to the Maidens that were 
 of the House, and enquired of them concerning Mercy enquires 
 him, for they did know him better than she. 
 So they told her that he was a very busy young Mr > 
 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, / will look no more on him, for I 
 purpose never to have a clog to my Soul. 
 
 Prudence then replied, That there needed no great matter 
 of discouragement to be given to him, her continuing so 
 as she had began 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 lk btloixt 
 he, What, always at it ? Yes, said she, either Mercy and 
 for myself or for others. And what canst thee 
 earn a day, quoth he ? I do these things, said she, That 
 I may be Rich in good Woi'ks, laying up in store a good 
 Foundation against the time to come, that I may lay hold on 
 Eternal Life. Why prithee what dost thou with them ? said 
 he. Cloath the naked, said she. With that his He forsakes 
 Countenance fell. So he forbore to come at her > and lch ^ 
 her again. And when he was asked the reason why, he 
 said, That Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill 
 Conditions. 
 
 When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee 
 that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee ? yea Mercy in the 
 he will raise up an ill report of thee ; for not- Mercy Defected ; 
 withstanding his pretence to Religion, and his while Mercy in 
 
 " ' the Name of 
 
 seeming love to Mercy, yet Mercy and he are Mercy is liked. 
 
272 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 of tempers so different, that I believe they will never come 
 together. 
 
 MERCY. / might a had Husbands afore now, tho' I spake 
 not of it to any ; but they were such as did not like my Con- 
 ditions,, tho" 1 never did any of them find fault with my Person. 
 So they and I could not agree. 
 
 PRUD. 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. 
 
 MERCY. Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will 
 Mercy's ^ e a Maid, or my Conditions shall be to me as 
 
 a Husband. For I cannot change my Nature, 
 and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose 
 never to admit of as long as I live. I had a Sister named 
 Bountiful, that was married to one of these Churls ; but he 
 HOW Mercys and she could never agree ; but because my Sister 
 ^ed^h&r was res h' e d i do as she had began, that is, 
 Husband. f shew Kindness to the Poor, therefore her 
 
 Husband first cried her down at the Cross, and then turned 
 her out of his Doors. 
 
 PRUD. And yet he was a Professor, I warrant you ? 
 
 MERCY. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he, the 
 World is now full ; but I am for none of them all. 
 
 Now Mathew the eldest Son of Christiana fell Sick, and 
 Matthew fails h^ s Sickness was sore upon him, for he was 
 8ick - much pained in his Bowels, so that he was with 
 
 it, at times, pulled as "'twere both ends together. There 
 dwelt also not far from thence one Mr. Skill, an antient and 
 well approved Physician. So Christiana desired it, and they 
 sent for him, and he came. When he w r as entered the Room, 
 and had a little observed the Boy, he concluded that he was 
 Gripes of ^ c ^ f ^ ne Gripes. Then he said to his Mother, 
 
 conscience. What j)^ j ias Matthew of late fed upon ? 
 
 Diet, said Christiana, Nothing but that which is wholesome. 
 
PHYSICK FOR MATTHEW 273 
 
 The Physician answered, This Boy has been tampering with 
 something that lies in his Maw undigested, and The Physicians 
 that will not away without means. And I tell J ^ment, 
 you lie must be purged, or else he will die. 
 
 SAMUEL. Then said Samuel, Mother, Mother, what was that 
 which my Brother did gather up and eat, so Samuel puts 
 
 / , 7 j a? j j. Ms Mother in 
 
 soon as we were come jrom the gate that is at mind of the 
 the head of this wail ? You know that there J" 1 ?*-'* 
 
 J J Brother did 
 
 was an Orchard on the left hand, on the other eat. 
 
 side of the Wall, and some of the Trees hung over the Wall, 
 
 and my Brother did plash and did eat. 
 
 CHRIS. True my Child, said Christiana, he did take thereof 
 and did eat ; naughty Boy as he was, I did chide him, and 
 yet he would eat thereof. 
 
 SKILL. / 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 Beelzebufrs Orchard. I do 
 marvel that none did warn you of it ; many have died thereof. 
 
 CHRIS. 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 him - 
 a Purge ; but it was too weak. Twas said, it was made of 
 the Blood of a Goat, the Ashes of an Heifer, and with some 
 of the Juice of Hyssop, $c. When Mr. Skill had seen that 
 that Purge was too weak, he made him one to Potion 
 the Purpose, Twos made Ex Carne % Sanguine ^ re ^ red - 
 
 n ' 4' (V 1 The Latin 1 
 
 Ltimsti. (You know l j nysicians give strange borrow. 
 
 Medicines to their Patients) And it was made up into Pills 
 with a Promise or two, and a proportionable quantity of 
 
274 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Salt. Now he was to take them three at a time fasting, 
 in half a quarter of a Pint of the Tears of Repentance. 
 When this potion was prepared, and brought to the Boy, 
 Tfiebo loth ke was 1^ to take it, tho' torn with the 
 to take the Gripes, as if he should be pulled in pieces. 
 
 Ph usick, 
 
 Come, come, said the Physician., you must take 
 
 it. It goes against my Stomach, said the Boy. / 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. 
 The Mother ^> Matthew, said she, this potion is sweeter 
 tastes it, and than Honv. If thou lovest thy Mother, if thou 
 lovest thy Brothers, if thou lovest Mercy, if 
 thou lovest thy Life, take it. So with much ado, after 
 
 */ 
 
 a short Prayer for the Blessing of God upon it, he took 
 it, and it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, 
 it caused him to sleep and 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 walked about with a Staff, 
 and would go from Room to Room, and talk 
 
 A word of God *= ' 
 
 in the hand of with Prudence, Piety, and Charitu of his Dis- 
 
 hls Faith, , ' ' U 1 1 ' 
 
 temper, and how he was healed. 
 
 So when the Boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. Skill, 
 saying, Sir, what will content you for your pains and care 
 to and of my Child ? And he said, you must pay the Master 
 of the College of Physicians, according to rules made in that 
 case and provided. 
 
 CHRIS, But Sir, said she, what is this Pill good for else? 
 
 SKILL. It is an universal Pill, 'tis good against all the 
 This Pill a Diseases that Pilgrims are incident to, and 
 
 reversal when it is well prepared, it will keep good, 
 
 Remedy. . . . 
 
 time out ot mina. 
 
PROFITABLE QUESTIONS 275 
 
 * 
 
 CHRIS. Pray Sir, make me up twelve Boxes of them : for 
 if I can get these, I will never take other Physic k. 
 
 SKILL. These Pills are good to prevent Diseases, as well 
 as to cure when one is Sick. Yea, I dare say it, and stand to 
 it, that if a man will but use this Physick as he should, it 
 will make him live for ever. But, good Christiana, thou must 
 give these Pills, no other wait but as I have 
 
 . u In a Glass of 
 
 prescribed: for if you do, they will do no good, the Tears of 
 So he gave unto Christiana Physick for herself, 
 and her Boys, and for Mercy : and bid Matthew take heed how 
 he eat any more Green Plums, and kist them and went his way. 
 
 It was told you before that Prudence bid the Boys that 
 if at any time they would, they should ask her some Questions 
 that might be profitable, and she would say something to them. 
 
 MAT. Then Matthew who had been sick, asked her, Why 
 for the most part Physick should be hitter to our Of Physick. 
 Palates ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew how unwelcome the word of God and 
 the Effects thereof are to a Carnal Heart. 
 
 MAT. Why does Physick, if it does good, of the Effects 
 purge, and cause that we vomit ? of Physick. 
 
 PRUD. To shew that the Word when it works effectually, 
 cleanseth the Heart and Mind. For look what the one doth 
 to the Body, the other doth to the Soul. 
 
 MAT. What should we learn by seeing the Flame of our 
 Fire go upwards? and by seeing the Beams and of Fire and 
 sweet Influences of the Sun strike downwards ? f the Sun - 
 
 PRUD. By the going up of the Fire, we are taught to 
 ascend to Heaven, by fervent and hot desires. And by the 
 Sun his sending his Heat, Beams, and sweet Influences down- 
 wards, we are taught, that the Saviour of the World, tho' 
 high, reaches down with his Grace and Love to us below. 
 
 MAT. Where have the Clouds their Water? Of the clouds. 
 
 PRUD. Out of the Sea. 
 
276 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 MAT. What may we learn from that ? 
 
 PRUD. That Ministers should fetch their Doctrine from God. 
 
 MAT. Why do they empty themselves upon the Earth ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew that Ministers should give out what they 
 know of God to the World. 
 Of the MAT. Why is the Rainbow caused by the Sun ? 
 
 Rainbow. p Rm TQ ghew thftt the Covenant () f God ' s 
 
 Grace is confirmed to us in Christ. 
 
 MAT. Why do the Springs come from the Sea to us through 
 the Earth ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew that the Grace of God comes to us through 
 
 o 
 
 the Body of Christ. 
 
 Of the Springs. MAT. Why do some of the Springs rise out 
 
 of the tops of high Hills ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew 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. 
 
 Of the Candle. MAT. Why doth the Fire fasten upon the 
 
 Candlewick ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew that unless Grace doth kindle upon the 
 Heart there will be no true Light of Life in us. 
 
 O 
 
 MAT. Why is the Wick and Tallow and all spent to main- 
 tain the light of the Candle ? 
 
 PRUD. To shew 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. 
 Of the Pelican. MAT. Why doth the Pelican pierce her own 
 Breast with her Bill ? 
 
 PRUD. To nourish her Young ones with her Blood, and 
 thereby to shew that Christ the blessed so loveth his Young, 
 his People, as to save them from Death by his Blood. 
 Of the Cock. MAT. What may one learn by hearing the 
 
 Cock to Crow ? 
 
 PRUD. Learn to remember Peters Sin, and Peter s Repent- 
 
TAKING SIGHTS 277 
 
 ance. The Cock's crowing shews 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 "'twas convenient for them 
 to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his The weak may 
 Mother, It is convenient that you forget not JJ?2l!!!S/ 
 
 / f t/t-tJ ot/ C//t(/ tC/ 
 
 to send to the House of Mr. Interpreter, to Prayers. 
 pray him to grant that Mr. Great-heart should be sent 
 unto us, that he may be our Conductor the rest of our 
 way. Good Boy, said she, I had almost 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. Inter- 
 preter ; who when it was come and he had seen the con- 
 tents 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 
 
 J They provide to 
 
 House together to give thanks to their King, be gone on their 
 for sending of them such profitable Guests as 
 these. Which done they said to Christiana, And shall we 
 not shew 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 shewed them one of the 
 Apples that Eve did eat of, and that she also Eves Apple. 
 did give to her Husband, and that for the eating of which 
 they both were turned out of Paradise, and asked her what 
 she thought that was ? Then Christiana said, A sight f Sin 
 ''Tis Food or Poison, I know not which. So they M amazing. 
 opened the matter to her, and she held up her hands and 
 wondered ? 
 
 Then they had her to a Place, and shewed Jacob's 
 her Jacob's Ladder. Now at that time there Ladder ' 
 
278 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 A sight of to shew them something else : but James said 
 
 Christ is taking. ^ ^ Mot h er , Pray bid them stay here a little 
 
 longer, for this is a curious sight. So they turned again, 
 and stood feeding their Eyes with this so pleasant a prospect. 
 After this they had them into a Place where did hang up 
 Golden Anchor, a Golden Anchor, so they bid Christiana take it 
 down ; For, said they, you shall have it with you, for 'tis of 
 absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of 
 that within the vail, and stand stedfast, in case you should 
 
 +f 
 
 meet with turbulent weather. So they were glad thereof. 
 Of Abraham Then they took them, and had them to the 
 offering up mount upon which Abraham our Father had 
 
 1 Qflflf* 
 
 offered up Isaac his Son, and shewed them the 
 Altar, the Wood, the Fire, and the Knife, for they remain 
 to be seen to this very Day. When they had seen it, they 
 held up their hands and -blest themselves, and said, Oh ! 
 What a man, for love to his Master, and for denial to 
 himself was A braham f After they had shewed them all 
 these things, Prudence took them into the Dining-Room, 
 Prudences where stood a pair of excellent Virginals : so 
 
 she played upon them, and turned what she had 
 shewed them into this excellent song, saying, 
 
 
 
 Eve's Apple we have shewed you, 
 Of that be you aware : 
 You have seen Jacobus Ladder too, 
 Upon which Angels are. 
 
 An Anchor you received have; 
 But let not these suffice, 
 Until with Abra'm you have gave 
 
 Your best a Sacrifice. 
 
THE PORTERS BLESSING 279 
 
 Now about this time one knocked at the Door : So the 
 Porter opened, and behold Mr. Great-heart was there ; but 
 when he was come in, what Joy was there ? For 
 
 J t m Mr. Great- 
 
 it came now fresh again into their minds, how heart come 
 
 but a little while ago he had slain old Grim 
 Bloody-man, the Giant, and had delivered them from the 
 Lions. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana and to Mercy, My 
 Lord has sent each of you a Bottle of Wine, 
 
 > t He brings a 
 
 and also some parched Corn, together with a token from his 
 
 1 P -r . . Lord with him. 
 
 couple 01 Pomegranates. He has also sent 
 
 the Boys some Figs and Raisins to refresh you in your 
 
 way. 
 
 Then they addressed themselves to their Journey, and 
 Prudence and Piety went along with them. When they came 
 at the Gate Christiana asked the Porter, if any of late went 
 by. He said, No, only one some time since : who also told 
 me that of late there had been a great Robbery committed 
 on the Kings High-way, as you go. But he Robbery. 
 saith, the Thieves are taken, and will shortly be tried for 
 their Lives. Then Christiana and Mercy was afraid ; but 
 Mathew 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 Christiana 
 shewed me since I came hither ; and also for takes her leave 
 
 , , , , . , , . , of the Porter. 
 
 that you nave 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 her a low obeisance, and said, Let thy The Porters 
 Garments be always White, and let thy Head blessinff ' 
 want no Ointment. Let Mercy live and not die, and let not 
 her Works be few. And to the Boys he said, Do you fly 
 
280 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 bethink- 
 ing 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 fraiikly sheitfd to me. 
 That in thy House for evermore 
 
 My dwelling-place shall be. 
 
 And listening still she thought she heard another answer 
 it, saying, 
 
 For why, The Lord our God is good, 
 
 His Mercy is for ever sure : 
 His Truth at all times Jirmly stood: 
 
 And shall from Age to Age endure. 
 
 So Christiana asked Prudence, what "'twas 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. I often, said she, 
 go out to hear them, we also oft times keep them tame in our 
 House. They are very fine Company for us when we are 
 Melancholy, also they make the Woods, and Groves, and 
 Solitary places places desirous to be in. 
 
THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION 281 
 
 By this Time Piety was come again, so she said to Christiana, 
 look here, I have brought thee a Scheme of all piety bestowetk 
 those things that thou hast seen at our House, J^JjJfjJ 
 upon which thou mayest look when thou parting. 
 findest thyself forgetful, and call those things again to 
 remembrance for thy Edification and Comfort. 
 
 Now they began to go down the Hill into the Valley of 
 Humiliation. It was a steep Hill, and the way i part, page 68. 
 was slippery ; but they were very careful, so they got 
 down pretty well. When they were down in the Valley, 
 Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where Christian 
 your Husband met with the foul Fiend, Apollyon, and 
 where they had that dreadful fight that they had. I know 
 you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good 
 Courage, as long you have here Mr. Great-heart to be 
 your Guide and Conductor, we hope you will fare the 
 better. So when these two had committed the Pilgrims 
 unto the Conduct of their Guide, he went forward and 
 they went after. 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not 
 to be so afraid of this Valley : for here is Mr. Great- 
 nothing to hurt us unless we procure it to our- ^vaiiefof 6 
 selves. 'Tis true, Christian did here meet with Humiliation. 
 Apollyon, with whom 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 i part, page 68, 
 when they hear that some frightful thing has befallen such 
 an 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 
 
282 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 any the Crow flies over ; and I am perswaded if we could 
 
 The reason why hit u P on {i > w f mi g ht find somewhere here- 
 abouts something that might give us an 
 
 50 beset here. 
 
 account why Christian was so hardly beset in 
 this place. 
 
 Then James said to his Mother, Lo, yonder stands a Pillar, 
 
 A Pillar with and ^ ^^ s as ^ something was written 
 an inscription thereon : let us go and see what it is. So they 
 
 on it. 
 
 went, and found there written, Let Christianas 
 slips before he came hither, and the Battles that he met 
 with in this place, be a warning to those that come after. 
 Lo, said their Guide, did not I tell you, that there was some- 
 thing hereabouts that would give Intimation of the reason 
 why Christian was so hard beset in this place ? Then turning 
 himself to Christiana, he said : No disparagement to Christian 
 more than to many others, whose Hap and Lot his was. For 
 'tis 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 w r e come to be tried than he. 
 
 But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It 
 is the best, and most fruitful piece of Ground in all those 
 This Valley a parts. It is fat Ground, and as you see con- 
 bravepiace. ^i^ muc h in Meadows ; and if a man was to 
 
 come here in the Summertime as we do now, if he knew not 
 anything before thereof, and if he also delighted himself 
 in the sight of his Eyes, he might see that that would be 
 
 o / o 
 
 delightful to him. Behold, how green this Valley is, also 
 how beautified with Lilies. I have also known many labour- 
 ing men that have got good Estates in this Valley of 
 thrive in Humiliation. (For God resisteth the Proud ; 
 
 the valley of but gives moj'e, more Grace to the Humble) 
 for indeed it is a very fruitful Soil, and doth 
 
THE COUNTRY-HOUSE OF CHRIST 283 
 
 bring forth by handfuls. Some also have wished that the next 
 way to their Father's House were here, that they might be 
 troubled no more with either Hills or Mountains to go 
 over ; but the way is the way, and there's an end. 
 
 Now as they were going along and talking, they espied 
 a Boy feeding his Father's Sheep. The Boy was in very 
 mean Cloaths, but of a very fresh and well-favoured Coun- 
 tenance, and as he sate by himself he sung. Hark, said 
 Mr. Great-heart, to what the Shepherd's Boy saith. So they 
 hearkened, and he said, 
 
 He that is dozvn, needs fear no fall, 
 He that is low, no Pride : 
 He that is humble, ever shall 
 Have God to be his Guide. 
 
 I am content with what I have, 
 Little be it, or much: 
 And, Lord, contentment still I crave, 
 Because thou savest such. 
 
 Fulness to such a burden is 
 That go on Pilgrimage: 
 Here little, and hereafter Bliss, 
 Is best from Age to Age. 
 
 Then said their Guide, do you hear him ? I will dare to 
 say, that this Boy lives a merrier Life, and wears more of 
 that Herb called Hearts-ease in his Bosom, then 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 Christ, n-hm in 
 
 walk these Meadows, for he found the Air was his 
 
 pleasant. Besides here a man shall be free 
 from the Noise, and from the hurryings of this Humiliation. 
 Life. All States are full of Noise and Confusion, only the 
 Valley of Humiliation, is that empty and solitary Place. 
 
 L3 
 
284 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Here a man shall not be so let and hindred in his Contempla- 
 tion, 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 tho' 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. 
 
 Did I say, our Lord had here in former Days his 
 Country-house, and that he loved here to walk ? I will 
 add, in this Place, and to the People that 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 incouragement to go on in their 
 Pilgrimage. 
 
 SAMUEL. Now as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great- 
 heart. Sir, I perceive that in this Valley my Father and 
 Apollyon had their Battle; but whereabout was the Fight, 
 for I perceive this Valley is large ? 
 
 GREAT-HEART. Your Father had that Battle with Apollyon 
 at a place yonder, before us, in a narrow Passage just beyond 
 Forgetful 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 forget what Favours they have received, and how 
 unworthy they are of them. This is the Place also where 
 others have been hard put to it. But more of the place 
 when we are come to it ; for I perswade myself, that to 
 this day there remains either some sign of the Battle, or 
 some Monument to testify that such a Battle there was fought. 
 
 MERCY. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this 
 
 Valley, as I have been anywhere else in all our Journev. 
 
 Humility a The place mcthinks suits with my Spirit. I 
 
 love to be in such places where there is no 
 
THE FIELD OF BATTLE 285 
 
 rattling with Coaches, nor rumbling with Wheels. Methinks 
 here one may without much Molestation, be thinking what 
 he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the 
 King has called him. Here one may think, and break at 
 Heart, and melt in one's Spirit until one's Eyes become like 
 the Fish Pools of Heshbon. They that go rightly through 
 this Valley of Baca make it a Well, the Rain that God 
 sends down from Heaven upon .them that are here also Jilleth 
 
 the Pools. This Valley is that from whence also the King 
 
 */ 
 
 will give to them Vineyards, and they that go through it, 
 shall sing, (as Christian did, for all he met with Apol- 
 lyon.) 
 
 GREAT-HEART. ? Tis true, said their Guide, I have gone 
 through this Valley many a time, and never An Experiment 
 was better than when here. 
 
 I have also been a Conduct to several Pilgrims, and they 
 have confessed the same, To this man will I look, saith the 
 King, even to him that is Poor, and of a contrite Spirit^ and 
 that trembles at my Word. 
 
 Now they were come to the place where the afore-mentioned 
 Battle was fought. Then said the Guide to Christiana her 
 Children and Mercy : This is the place, on this Ground 
 Christian stood, and up there came Apollyon against him. 
 And look, did not I tell you, here is some of The place where 
 your Husband's Blood upon these Stones to t he Fiend did 
 this day. Behold also how here and there are ft? M ' s 
 
 J signs of the 
 
 yet to be seen upon the place some of the Battle remains. 
 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 shewed himself as 
 stout, as could, had he been there, even Hercules himself. 
 When Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next 
 
286 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 this Battle, and Christians Victory to his 
 of the Battle. Fam ^ throughout all Ages. So because it 
 
 stood just on the way-side before them, they stept to it 
 and read this Writing, which word for word was this, 
 
 A Monument Hard btj, here was a Battle fought, 
 
 of Christians f/ ' J 
 
 Victory. Most strange, and yet most true. 
 
 Christian and Apollyon sought 
 Each other to subdue. 
 
 The Man so bravely playd the Man, 
 He made the Eiend to Jty : 
 Of which a Monument I stand, 
 The same to testify. 
 
 When they had passed by this place, they came upon the 
 i part, page 76. Borders of the Shadow of Death, and this Valley 
 was longer than the other ; a place also most strangely 
 haunted with Evil things, as many are able to testify. 
 But these Women and Children went the better through it, 
 because they had day-light, and because Mr. Great-heart 
 was their Conductor. 
 
 When they were entered upon this Valley they thought 
 Groanings that they heard a groaning as of dead men, a 
 
 very great groaning. They thought also they 
 did hear Words of Lamentation spoken, as of some in 
 extream 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 
 
 The Ground they felt the Ground begin to shake under 
 
 them, as if some hollow Place was there ; they 
 
 heard also a kind of a hissing as of Serpents ; but nothing 
 
A MONUMENT OF VICTORY 
 
 287 
 
 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, 
 
 THE MONUMENT OF CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY. 
 
 Now James began to be Sick ; but I think the cause thereof 
 was Fear ; so his Mother gave him some of that James sick 
 Glass of Spirits that she had given her at the with Fear - 
 Interpreters House, and three of the Pills that Mr. Skill had 
 prepared, and the Boy began to revive. Thus they went on 
 
288 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 till they came to about the middle of the Valley, and then 
 The Fiend Christiana said, Methinks I see something yonder 
 
 appears. upon the Road before us, a thing of such a shape 
 
 such as I have not seen. Then said Joseph, Mother, what 
 The Pilgrims is ^ ? An u gty thing, Child ; an ugly thing, 
 are afraid. sa jd &. But Mother, what is it like, said he ? 
 'Tis like I 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 
 afraid keep close to me. So the Fiend came on, and the 
 Conductor met it; but when it was just come to him, it 
 vanished to all their sights. Then remembered they what 
 had been said sometime ago, Resist the Devil, and he will 
 fly from you. 
 
 They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but 
 Great heart they had not gone far, before Mercy looking 
 incourages behind her saw, as she thought, something; 
 
 . O ' O 
 
 most like a Lion, and it came a great padding 
 A Lion. 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 ake, save the Heart of 
 him that was their Guide. So it came up, and Mr. Great- 
 heart went behind, and put the Pilgrims all before him. The 
 Lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart addressed 
 himself to give him Battle. But when he saw that it was 
 determined that resistance should be made, he also drew 
 back and came no further. 
 
 Then they went on again, and their Conductor did go 
 before them, till they came at a place where was cast up 
 A pit and a pit, the whole breadth of the way, and before 
 
 they could be prepared to go over that, a great 
 mist and a darkness fell upon them, so that they could not 
 see. Then said the Pilgrims, alas ! now what shall we do ? 
 But their Guide made answer, Fear not, stand still and see 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 289 
 
 what an end will be put to this also. So they stayed there 
 because their Path was marrVl. 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 
 
 Christiana now 
 
 to Mercy, now I see what my poor Husband knoivs ivhat her 
 went through. I have heard much of this 
 place, but I never was here afore 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 Valley 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. 
 
 GREATH. 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 Re P l y- 
 down to the Bottoms of the Mountains. Now it seems as 
 if the Earth with its bars were about us for ever. But let 
 them that walk in darkness and have no light, trust in the 
 name of the Lord, and stay upon their God. For my Part, 
 as I have told you already, I have gone often through this 
 Valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am, 
 and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that I am 
 not mine own Saviour. But I trust we shall have a good 
 deliverance. Come let us pray for light to him that can 
 lighten our darkness, and that can rebuke, not only these, 
 but all the Satans in Hell. 
 
 So they cried and prayed, and God sent light, and deliver- 
 ance, for there was now no let in their way, no They pray. 
 not there where but now they were stopt with a pit : 
 
 Yet they were not got through the Valley ; so they went 
 on still, and behold great stinks and loathsome smells, to the 
 
290 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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. 
 
 O but, said one of the Boys, it is not so bad to go through 
 One of the Boys here, as it is to abide here always, and for ought 
 Re P l n- I know, one reason why we must go this way to 
 
 the House prepared for us, is, that our home might be made 
 the sweeter to us. 
 
 Well said, Samuel, quoth the Guide, thou hast now 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 
 hand, with his flesh all rent and torn. Then said the Guide, 
 Heedless That is one Heedless, that was a going this 
 
 is slain, wa y . h e } ias } a i n there a great while. There 
 
 Takeheed was one TaJceheed with him when he was taken 
 
 pr and slain, but he escaped their hands. You 
 
 cannot imagine, how many are killed here about, and yet 
 men are so foolishly venturous, as to set out lightly on Pil- 
 grimage, 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 
 i part, page 83. never a done it. Now they drew towards the 
 
 v 
 
 end of the way, and just there where Christian had seen 
 the Cave when he went by, out thence came forth Maul 
 Haul a Giant. a Giant. This Maul did use to spoil young 
 Pilgrims with Sophistry, and he called Great-heart bv his 
 
THE FIGHT WITH GIANT MAUL 291 
 
 name, and said unto him, how many times have you been 
 forbidden to do these things ? Then said Mr. Great-heart, 
 what things ? What things, quoth the Giant, H& uarrels 
 you know what things ; but I will put an with Great- 
 
 heart. 
 
 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 know 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, Ministers 
 and earnest them into a strange Country, to counted as 
 the weakning of my Master's Kingdom. But 
 now Great-heart replied, I am a Servant of the God of 
 Heaven, my business is to perswade sinners to Repentance ; 
 I am commanded to do my endeavour to turn Men, Women, 
 and Children, from darkness to light, and from me Giant and 
 the power of Satan to God, and if this be in- h ^ rt \^ t 
 deed the ground of thy quarrel, let us fall to it fi^t. 
 as soon as thou wilt. 
 
 Then the Giant, came up, and Mr. Great-heart went to 
 meet him, and as he went he drew his Sword; but the Giant 
 had a Club. So with out more ,ado they fell to it, and at 
 the first blow the Giant stroke Mr. Great-heart weak folks 
 down upon one of his knees ; with that the prayers do 
 
 sometimes help 
 
 Women, and Children cried out. So Mr. Great- strong folks 
 heart recovering himself, laid about him in full 
 lusty manner, and gave the Giant a wound in his arm ; thus 
 he fought for the space of an hour to that height of heat, 
 that the breath came out of the Giant's nostrils, as the heat 
 doth out of a boiling Caldron. 
 
 Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great-heart 
 
292 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 Tiie Giant fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart with a full 
 
 struck town. ^low fetch t the Giant down to the ground. 
 Nay hold, and let me recover, quoth he. So Mr. Great-heart 
 fairly let him get up ; so to it they went again ; and the 
 Giant mist but little of all-to-breaking Mr. Great-heaths 
 Scull with his Club. 
 
 Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat 
 of his Spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib ; with that 
 the Giant began to faint, and could hold up his Club no 
 longer. Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smit 
 the head of the Giant from his shoulders. Then the Women 
 and Children rejoyced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God, 
 for the deliverance he had wrought. 
 
 O 
 
 When this was done, they amongst them erected a Pillar, 
 and fastned the Giant's head thereon, and 
 
 Tie is slam, and 
 
 his head wrote underneath in Letters that Passengers 
 
 disposed of. i , i 
 
 might read. 
 
 He that did wear this head ivas one 
 
 That Pilgrims did misuse; 
 
 He stopt their icay, he spared none, 
 
 But did them all abuse ; 
 
 Until that /, Great-heart, arose, 
 
 The Pilgrims' 1 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 
 i part, page 84. way off cast up to be a Prospect for Pilgrims 
 (that was the place from whence Christian had the first sight 
 of Faithful his Brother.) Wherefore here they sat down, 
 
DISCOURSE OF FIGHTS 293 
 
 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 
 Determent, that it is at present a proof of my love to my 
 Master and you, and shall be a means by Grace to encrease 
 my reward at last. 
 
 V 
 
 But was you not afraid, good Sir, when you Discourse of 
 see him come out with his. Club? the fights. 
 
 It is my Duty, said he, to distrust mine own ability, that 
 I may have reliance on him that is stronger than all. But 
 what did you think when he fetched you down to the ground 
 at the Jirst blow ? Why I thought, 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 
 God has been wonderful good unto us, both in Mat here 
 bringing us out of this Valley, and in delivering admires 
 
 Goodness. 
 
 us out of the hand of this Enemy ; for my part 
 I see no reason why we should distrust our God any more, 
 since he has now, and in such a place as this, given us such 
 testimony of his love as this. 
 
 Then they got up and went forward, now a little before 
 them stood an Oak, and under it when they 
 
 J Old Honest 
 
 came to it, they found an old Pilgrim fast asleep under 
 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 ? 
 
 GREATH. Come man be not so hot, here is none but Friends ; 
 yet the old man gets up and stands upon his guard, and will 
 
294 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 Coelestial Country. 
 
 HONEST. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy ; I fear'd 
 One Saint that you had been of the Company of those 
 
 aothfo?hS that some time a S did rob Little-faith of his 
 Enemy. money ; but now I look better about me, I per- 
 
 ceive you are honester People. 
 
 GREATH. Whii what would, or could you a 
 
 Talk between u & 
 
 Great-heart done, to a helped yourself, if we indeed had been 
 
 and he. /> . / , ^ 
 
 oj that Lompany ? 
 
 Hox. Done ! Why, I would a fought as long as Breath 
 had been in me ; and had I so done, I am sure you could 
 never have given me the worst on't ; for a Christian can never 
 be overcome, unless he shall yield of himself. 
 
 GREATH. Well said, Father Honest, quoth the Guide, for by 
 this I know thou art a Cock of the right kind, for thou hast 
 said the Truth. 
 
 Hox. 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. 
 
 GREATH. Well, now we are so happily met, pray let me crave 
 wiimce, Mr. your Name, and the name of the Place you came 
 
 Honest came. from ? 
 
 HON. My Name I cannot, but I came from the Town of 
 Stupidity ; it lieth about four Degrees beyond the City of 
 Destruction. 
 
 GREATH. 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, Not Honesty in the 
 abstract, but Honest is my Name, and I wish that my Nature 
 shall agree to what I am called. 
 
 Hox. But Sir, said the old Gentleman, how could you 
 guess that I am such a Man, since I came from such a place ? 
 
OLD MR. HONEST 295 
 
 GREATH. / had heard of you before, by my Master, for he 
 knows all things that are done on the Earth : 
 
 ones 
 But I have often wondered that any should come <*> worse then 
 
 n j n TI , 7 those merely 
 
 jrom your place ; jor your 1 own is worse than carnal. 
 is the city 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. 
 
 GREATH. I believe it, Father Honest, I believe it, for I 
 know the thing is true. 
 
 Then the old Gentleman saluted all the Pilgrims with a 
 holy Kiss of Charity, and asked them of their Names, and 
 how they had fared since they set out on their Pilgrimage. 
 
 CHRIST. Then said Christiana, My Name I suppose you 
 have heard of, good Christian was my Hus- OUHonest 
 band, and these four were his Children. But and Christiana 
 can you think how the old Gentleman was 
 taken, when she told them who she was ! He skipped, he 
 smiled, and blessed them with a thousand good Wishes, 
 saying, 
 
 HON. I have heard much of your Husband, and of his 
 Travels and Wars which he underwent in his days. Be it 
 spoken to your Comfort, the Name of your Husband rings all 
 over these parts of the World. His Faith, his Courage, his 
 Enduring, and his Sincerity under all, has made his Name 
 Famous. Then he turned him to the Boys, He also talks 
 and asked them of their Names, which they wiih the *"- 
 told him : and then said he unto them, Matthew, be thou 
 like Mattliew the Publican, not in Vice, but oldMr> 
 in Virtue. Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel Honest's 
 
 . , j -I) blessing on them. 
 
 the Prophet, a Man of laith and Prayer. 
 
 Joseph, said he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphars House, 
 
296 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Chaste, and one that flies from Temptation. And, James, 
 be thou like James the Just, and like James the Brother 
 of our Lord. 
 
 Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her 
 HeUesseth Town and her Kindred to come along with 
 
 Mercy. Christiana, and with her Sons. At that the 
 
 old Honest Man said, Mercy, is thy Name ? by Mercy shalt 
 thou be sustained, and carried thorough all those Difficulties 
 that shall assault thee in thy way ; till thou shalt come 
 thither where thou shalt look the Fountain of Mercy in the 
 Face with Comfort. 
 
 All this while the Guide Mr. Great-heart, was very much 
 pleased, and smiled upon his Companion. 
 
 Now as they walked along together, the Guide asked 
 Talk of one the old Gentleman, if he did not know one 
 Mr. Fearing. ^f r fearing that came on Pilgrimage out of his 
 
 Parts. 
 
 Hox. Yes, very well, said he ; he was a Man that had 
 the Root of the Matter in him, but he was one of the 
 most troublesome Pilgrims that ever I met with in all 
 
 o 
 
 my days. 
 
 GREATH. I perceive you knew him, for you have given a very 
 right Character of him. 
 
 Hox. 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. 
 
 GREATH. I was his guide from my Masters House, to the 
 Gates of the Ccclestial City. 
 
 Hox. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one. 
 
 GREATH. / 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. 
 
 Hox. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how 
 he managed himself under your Conduct ? 
 
MR. FEARINGS PILGRIMAGE 297 
 
 _ 
 GREATH. Why he was always afraid that he should come 
 
 short of whither he had a desire to go. Every J/?< Fearing s 
 thing friffhtned him that he heard any body troublesome 
 
 Pilqrimctqe 
 
 speak of, that had but the least appearance of 
 Opposition in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the Slough 
 of Dispond for above a Month together, nor Ris behaviour 
 durst he, for all he saw several go over before at the slough 
 him, venture, tho' they, many of them, offered 
 to lend him their Hand. He would not go back again 
 neither. The Ccelestial City, he said he should die if he 
 came not to it, and yet was dejected at every Difficulty, 
 and stumbled at every Straw that any body cast in his way. 
 Well, after he had lain at the Slough of Dispond a great 
 while, as I have told you ; one sunshine Morning, I do not 
 know how, he ventured, and so got over. But when he was 
 over, he would scarce believe it. He had, I think, a Slough 
 of Dispond in his Mind, a Slough that he carried every 
 where with him, or else he could never have been as he was. 
 So he came up to the Gate, you know what I mean, that 
 stands at the head of this way, and there also he stood a 
 good while before he would adventure to knock. When 
 the Gate was opened he would give back, and His behaviour 
 give place to others, and say that he was not at the Gate> 
 worthy. For, for all he gat before some to the Gate, yet 
 many of them went in before him. There the poor Man 
 would stand shaking and shrinking : I dare say it would have 
 pitied one's Heart to have seen him : Nor would he go back 
 again. At last he took the Hammer that hanged on the 
 Gate in his hand, and gave a small Rap or two ; then one 
 opened to him, but he shrunk back as before. He that 
 opened stept 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 
 
298 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Door to thee ; come in, for thou art blest. With that 
 he gat up, and went in trembling, and when he was in, he 
 was ashamed to shew his Face. Well, after he had been 
 entertained there a while, as you know how the manner is, 
 he was bid to go on his way, and also told the way he 
 should take. So he came till he came to our House, but 
 as he behaved himself at the Gate, so he did at my Master 
 the Interpreters Door. He lay thereabout in 
 
 His behaviour at * J 
 
 the interpreters the Cold a good while, before ' he would 
 adventure to call ; Yet he would not go back. 
 And the Nights were long and cold then. Nay he had a Note 
 of Necessity in his Bosom to my Master, to receive him, and 
 grant him the Comfort of his House, and also to allow him 
 a stout and valiant Conduct, because he was himself so 
 Chicken-hearted a Man ; and yet for all that he was afraid to 
 call at the Door. So he lay up and down thereabouts till, 
 poor man, he was almost starved ; yea so great was his 
 Dejection, that tho' he saw several others for knocking got 
 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 shewed the thing to our Lord. 
 So he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in, but 
 I dare say I had hard work to do it. At last he came in, 
 and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it wonderful 
 lovingly to him. There were but a few good bits at the 
 Table but some of it was laid upon his Trencher. Then 
 he presented the Note, and my Lord looked 
 
 entertained thereon and said his Desire should be granted. 
 
 He is a little So when he had been there a good while, he 
 
 ThTintT 1 at scemed to get some Hcart ' and to be a little 
 
 preters house. more Comfortable. For my Master, you must 
 
PLEASANT IN HUMILIATION 299 
 
 know, is one of very tender Bowels, specially to them that 
 are afraid, wherefore he carried it so towards him, as might 
 tend most to his Incouragement. 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 of few Words, only he would sigh aloud. 
 
 When we were come to where the three Fellows were 
 hanged, he said, that he doubted that that He waa greatly 
 
 would be his end also. Only he seemed slad afraid ivhen he 
 
 11 .1 r, i ,i c i , saw the Gibbet, 
 
 when he saw the L ross and the sepulchre. Cheery when he 
 
 There I confess he desired to stay a little to saw the Crou - 
 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 was 
 willing; also when he was in, I brought him Dumpishat 
 acquainted with the Damsels that were of the the house 
 Place, but he was ashamed to make himself 
 much for Company ; he desired much to be alone, yet he 
 always loved good talk, and often would get behind the 
 Screen to hear it ; he also loved much to see antient 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 
 Interpreters, but that he durst not be so bold to ask. 
 
 When we went also from the House Beautiful, down the 
 Hill, into the Valley of Humiliation, he went Hewentdmcn 
 down as well as ever I saw man in my Life, for l ' and -* 
 
 i -, i'ii very Pleasant 
 
 he cared not how mean he was, so he might be in the Valley of 
 happy at last. Yea, I think there was a kind Nummation - 
 
300 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 r in this Valley. 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 
 Much perplexed Shadow of Death, I thought I should have lost 
 
 ihe th shadow y f m y Man ; not for that he had an y Inclination 
 of Death. to go back, that he always abhorred, but he 
 
 was ready to die for Fear. O, the Hobgoblins will have 
 me, the Hobgoblins will have me, cried he ; and I could not 
 beat him out on't. He made such a noise, and such an 
 outcry here, that, had they but heard him, 'twas 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 thorow it, as ever I knew it before or 
 since. I suppose, those Enemies here, had now a special 
 Check from our Lord, and a Command not to meddle until 
 Mr. Fearing was past over it. 
 
 It would be too tedious to tell you of all ; we will therefore 
 only mention a Passage or two more. When he was come 
 
 His behaviour a ^ Vanity Fair, I thought he would have fought 
 at vanity-Fair, ^fa a ^ t h e men j n tne p a j r? j f ear ed there we 
 
 should both have been knocked o 1 th' Head, so hot was he 
 against their Fooleries ; upon the inchanted 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 time, than ever 
 
THE GROUND OF MUSICK 301 
 
 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, / shall, I shall. 
 Then parted we asunder, and I saw him no more. 
 
 HON. Then it seems he was well at last. #^ Boldness 
 
 GREATH. Yes, yes, I never had doubt about at lasL 
 him, he was a man of a choice Spirit, only he was always 
 kept very low, and that made his Life so burthensome to 
 himself, and so troublesome to others. He was above many, 
 tender of Sin ; he was so afraid of doing injuries to others, 
 that he often would deny himself of that which was lawful, 
 because he would not offend. 
 
 HON. But what should be the reason that such a good Man 
 should be all his days so much in the dark ? 
 
 GREATH. There are two sorts of Reasons for it ; one is, 
 The wise God will have it so, Some must Pipe, R eason u .j t 
 and some must Weep : Now Mr. Fearing was o d men ar ^ s 
 one that played upon this Base. He and his 
 Fellows sound the Sackbut, whose Notes are more doleful, 
 than the Notes of other Musick are. Tho 1 indeed some 
 say, The Base is the Ground of Musick. And for my part 
 I care not at all for that Profession, that begins not in 
 heaviness of Mind. The first string that the Musician usually 
 touches, is the Base, when he intends to put all in tune. God 
 also plays upon this string first, when he sets the Soul in tune 
 for himself. Only here was the imperfection of Mr. Fearing, 
 he could play upon no other Musick 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 Revelations, the Saved are compared to a company of 
 Musicians that play upon their Trumpets and Harps, and 
 sing their Songs before the Throne. 
 
302 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Hox. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what 
 Relation you have given of him. Difficulties, Lions, or Vanity 
 Fair, he feared not at all: ''Twas only Sin, Death, and Hell, 
 that was to him a Terror; because he had some Doubts about 
 his Interest in that Coelestial Country. 
 
 GREATH. You say right. Those were the things that were 
 A Close about his Troublers, and they, as you have well 
 
 observed, arose from the weakness of his Mind 
 thereabout, not from weakness of Spirit as to the practical 
 part of a Pilgrims 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. 
 
 CHRIS. Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. Fearing 
 Christiana's has done me good. I thought no body had been 
 
 like me, but I see there was some Semblance 
 ''twi.rt this good man and I, only we differed in two things. 
 His Troubles were so great they brake out, but mine I kept 
 within. His also lay so hard upon him, they made him that 
 he could not knock at the Houses provided for Entertain- 
 ment ; but my Trouble was always such, as made me knock 
 the louder. 
 
 MERCY. If I might also speak my Heart, I must say that 
 Mercy's something of him has also dwelt in me. For 
 
 I have ever been more afraid of the Lake and 
 the loss of a place in Paradise, than I have been of the 
 loss of other things. Oh, thought I, may I have the 
 Happiness to have a Habitation there, "'tis enough, though 
 I part with all the World to win it. 
 
 MATT. Then said Matthew, Fear ivas one thing that made 
 Matthew's me think that I was far from, having that 
 
 within me, that accompanies Salvation ; but if 
 it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go 
 well with me ? 
 
MR. SELFWILL 303 
 
 JAMES. No fears, no Grace, said James. Tho' there is not 
 always Grace where there is the fear of Hell ; januafa 
 yet to be sure there is no Grace where there is Sentence. 
 no fear of God. 
 
 GREATH. 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. 
 
 Welly Master Fearing, thou didst fear Ttteir Farewell 
 
 Thy God, and wast afraid about Mm ' 
 
 Of doing any thing, while here, 
 
 That would have thee betray'd. 
 
 And didst thou fear the Lake and Pit ? 
 
 Would others did so too : 
 
 For, as for them that want thy Wit, 
 
 They do themselves undo. 
 
 Now I saw, that they still went on in their Talk. For after 
 Mr. Greatheart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. Honest 
 began to tell them of another, but his Name was Of Mr. Self will. 
 
 o 
 
 Mr. Selfwill. He pretended himself to be a Pilgrim, said 
 Mr. Honest ; But I perswade my self, he never came in at the 
 Gate that stands at the head of the way. 
 
 GREATH. Had you ever any talk with him about it ? 
 
 HON. Yes, more than once or twice ; but he would always 
 be like himself, self-willed. He neither cared O id Honest 
 for man, nor Argument, nor yet Example ; M talked with 
 what his Mind prompted him to, that he would 
 do, and nothing else could he be got to. 
 
 GREATH. Pray what Principles did he hold, for I suppose 
 you can tell? 
 
 HON. He held that a Man might follow the Vices, as well 
 as the Virtues of the Pilgrims, and that if he seifidivs 
 did both, he should be certainly saved. opinions ' 
 
304 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 GREATH. How? If he had said, "'tis possible for the best to 
 be guilty of the Vices, as well as to partake of the Virtues of 
 Pilgrims* he could not much a been blamed. For indeed we are 
 
 . o 
 
 exempted from no Vice absolutely, but on condition that we 
 Watch and Strive. But this I perceive is not the thing. But 
 if I understand you right, your meaning is, that he was of 
 that Opinion, that it was allowable so to be? 
 
 HON. Ay, ay, so I mean, and so he believed and practised. 
 
 GREATH. But what Ground had he for his so saying? 
 
 HON. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his Warrant. 
 
 GREATH. Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few Par- 
 ticidars. 
 
 HON. So I will, He said To have to do with other men's 
 Wives, had been practised by David, God's Beloved, and 
 therefore he could do it. He said to have more Women 
 than one, was a thing that Solomon practised, and therefore 
 he could do it. He said that Sarah, and the godly Mid- 
 wives of Egypt lied, and so did saved Rahab, and therefore 
 he could do it. He said that the Disciples went at the 
 bidding of their Master, and took away the Owner's Ass, and 
 therefore he could do so too. He said that Jacob got the 
 Inheritance of his Father in a way of Guile and Dissimulation, 
 and therefore he could do so too. 
 
 GREATH. High base! indeed, and you are sure he was of 
 this Opinion ? 
 
 HON. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, 
 bring Argument for it, cj-c. 
 
 GREATH. An Opinion that is not Jit to be, with any Allow- 
 ance, in the World. 
 
 HON. You must understand me rightly. He did not say 
 that any man might do this ; but, that those that had the 
 Virtues of those that did such things, might also do 
 the same. 
 
 GREATH. But what more false than such a Conclusion ? For 
 
STRANGE OPINIONS IN THE WORLD 305 
 
 this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have 
 sinned of Infirmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of 
 a presumptuous Mind. Or if because a Child, by the blast 
 of the Wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down and 
 dejlled it self in Mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down 
 and wallow like a Boar therein. Who could a thought that 
 any one could so far a been blinded by the power of Lust ? 
 But what is written must be true. They stumble at the Word, 
 being disobedient, whereunto also they were appointed. 
 
 His supposing that such may have the godly Mans Virtues, 
 who addict themselves to their Vices, is also a Delusion as strong 
 as the other. ' Tis 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. Nor 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 lie say for him- 
 self? 
 
 HON. Why, he says, to do this by way of Opinion, seems 
 abundance more honest, then to do it, and yet hold contrary 
 to it in Opinion. 
 
 GREATH. A very wicked Answer, for iho* to let loose the 
 Bridle to Lusts, while our Opinions are against such things, 
 is bad ; yet to sin and plead a Toleration so to do, is worse ; 
 the one stumbles Beholders accidentally, the other pleads them 
 into the Snare. 
 
 HON. There are many of this man's mind, that have not 
 this man's mouth, and that makes going on Pilgrimage of so 
 little esteem as it is. 
 
 GREATH. You have said the Truth, and it is to be lamented. 
 But he that feareth the King of Paradise shall come out of 
 them all. 
 
 CHRIS. There are strange Opinions in the World. I know 
 
306 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 one that said, "'twas time enough to repent when they come 
 to die. 
 
 GREATH. Such arc not over wise. That man would a been 
 loth, might he have had a week to run twenty mile in for his 
 Life, to have deferred that Journey to the last hour of that 
 Week. 
 
 HON. You say right, and yet the generality of them that 
 count themselves Pilgrims, do indeed do thus. 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 gat sight of the promised 
 Land. 
 
 I have seen some that have promised nothing at first 
 setting out to be Pilgrims, and that one would a thought 
 could not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good 
 Pilgrims. 
 
 I have seen some, that have run hastily forward, that again 
 have after a little time, run as fast just back again. 
 
 I have seen some who have spoke very well of a Pil- 
 grim's Life at first, that after a while, have spoken as much 
 against it. 
 
 I have heard some, when they first set out for Paradise, 
 say positively, there is such a place, who when they have 
 been almost there, have come back again, and said there 
 is none. 
 
 I have heard some vaunt what they would do in case they 
 should be opposed, that have even at a false Alarm fled 
 Faith, the Pilgrim's way, and all. 
 
 Now as they were thus in their way, there came one run- 
 Freshnewsof ning to meet them, and said, Gentlemen, and 
 you of the weaker sort, if you love Life, shift 
 for your selves, for the Robbers are before you. 
 
THE INN OF GAIUS 307 
 
 GREATH. Then said Mr. Greatheart, They be the three 
 that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, ipart, page 153. 
 
 said he, we are ready for them ; So they went Greatheart'a 
 
 , . XT J.T- i i j * T* Resolution. 
 
 on their way. Now they looked at every 1 urn- 
 ing when they should a met with the Villains. But whether 
 they heard of Mr. Greatheart, or whether they had some 
 other Game, they came not up to the Pilgrims. 
 
 CHRIS. Christiana then wished for an Inn for herself and 
 her Children, because they were weary. Then Christiana 
 said Mr. Honest, there is one a little before us, /^ e 
 where a very honorable Disciple, one Gains, Gains. 
 dwells. 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 They enter into 
 went in, not knocking, for Folks use not to hts Hmtse - 
 knock at the Door of an Inn. Then they called for the 
 Master of the House, and he came to them. So they asked 
 if they might lie there that Night ? 
 
 GAIUS. Yes Gentlemen, if you be true Men, for my House 
 is for none but Pilgrims. Then was Christiana. 
 
 Gains enter- 
 Mercy, and the Boys, the more glad, for that tains them, and 
 
 the Innkeeper was a Lover of Pilgrims. So they 
 called for Rooms; and he shewed them one for Christiana 
 and her Children and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great- 
 heart and the old Gentleman. 
 
 GREATH. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gains, what 
 hast thou for Supper? for these Pilgrims have come far 
 to day and are weary. 
 
 GAIUS. It is late, said Gains ; so we cannot conveniently go 
 out to seek Food ; but such as we have you shall be welcome 
 to, if that will content. 
 
 GREATH. We will be content with what thou hast in the 
 House ; for, as much as I have proved thee, thou art never 
 destitute of that which is convenient. 
 
 M 
 
308 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Then he went down, and spake to the Cook, whose Name 
 Gaius his cook. was Taste-that-wliich-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 an 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 GAIUS. Then said Gains, whose Wife is this 
 
 Gains and his aged Matron, and whose Daughter is this young 
 
 Guests. Jr 7 _ 
 
 Damsel ? 
 
 GREATH. The Woman is the Wife of one Christian, a Pil- 
 grim of former times, and these are his four Children. The 
 
 o 
 
 Maid is one of her Acquaintance ; one that she hath per- 
 MarJcthis. swaded to come with her on Pilgrimage. The 
 
 Boys take all after their Father, and covet to tread in his 
 Steps. Yea, if they do but see any place where the old 
 Pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his Foot, it ministreth 
 Joy to their Hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the 
 same. 
 
 GAIUS. Then said Gaius, Is this Christianas Wife, and are 
 these Christians Children ? I knew your Husband's Father, 
 yea, also, his Father's Father. Many have been good of this 
 stock, their Ancestors dwelt first at Antioch. Christians 
 Of Christian's Progenitors (I suppose you have heard your 
 Ancestors. Husband talk of them) were very worthy men. 
 
 They have above any that I know, shewed 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 o' th' Head with Stones. James, another of this 
 Generation, was slain with the edge of the Sword. To 
 say nothing of Paul and Peter, men antiently of the Family 
 
MERCYS MATCH 309 
 
 from whence your Husband came, there was Ignatius, who 
 was cast to the Lions ; Romanus, whose Flesh was cut by 
 pieces from his Bones ; and Polycarp, that played the man in 
 the Fire. There was he that was hanged up in a Basket in 
 the Sun, for the Wasps to eat ; and he who they put into 
 a Sack and cast him into the Sea, to be drowned. Twould 
 be impossible, utterly 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. 
 
 GREATH. Indeed Sir, they are likely Lads ; they seem to 
 chuse heartily their Fathers Ways. 
 
 GAIUS. That is it that I said, wherefore Christians Family 
 is like still to spread abroad upon the face of Adviceto 
 the Ground, and yet to be numerous upon the Christiana 
 face of the Earth. Wherefore let Christiana 
 look out some Damsels for her Sons, to whom they may be 
 betrothed, fyc. that the Name of their Father, and the House 
 of his Progenitors may never be forgotten in the World. 
 
 HON. ^Tis pity this Family should fall, and be extinct. 
 
 GAIUS. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may. But 
 let Christiana take my Advice, and that's the way to 
 uphold it. 
 
 And Christiana, Said this Inkeeper, 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 Mercy and 
 to thee. If she will, let her be given to Matthew 
 
 mciTry. 
 
 Matthew thy eldest Son. 'Tis the way to 
 preserve you a Posterity in the Earth. So this Match was 
 concluded, and in process of time they were married. But 
 more of that hereafter. 
 
 GAIUS also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the 
 
310 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 behalf of Women, to take away their Reproach. For as 
 Death and the Curse came into the World by a Woman, so 
 also did Life and Health ; God sent forth his Son, made of 
 a Woman. Yea, to shew how much those that came after 
 Women did abhor the Act of their Mother, this Sex, 
 ired in the old Testament, coveted Children, if 
 children. 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 rejoyced in him, 
 before either Man or Angel. I read not that ever any 
 man did ffive unto Christ so much as one Groat, but the 
 
 o 
 
 Women followed him, and ministred to him of their Sub- 
 stance. 'Twas a Woman that washed his Feet with Tears, 
 and a Woman that anointed his Body to the Burial. They 
 were Women that wept, when he was going to the Cross ; 
 and Women that followed him from the Cross, and that sat 
 by his Sepulchre when he was buried. They were Women 
 that was first with him at his Resurrection-morn, and Women 
 that brought Tiding first to his Disciples that he was risen 
 from the Dead. Women therefore are highly favoured, and 
 shew by these things that they are sharers with us in the 
 Grace of Life. 
 
 Now the Cook sent up to signify that Supper was almost 
 Supper ready. ready, and sent one to lay the Cloth, the 
 Trenchers, and to set the Salt and Bread in order. 
 
 Then said Matthew, the sight of this Cloth, and of this 
 Forerunner of a Supper, begetteth in me a greater Appetite to 
 my Food than I had before. 
 
 GAIUS. So let all ministring Doctrines to thee in this Life, 
 What to be beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the 
 
 la^o/ue 1 Supper of the great King in his Kingdom ; for 
 Board loith the, a ]j Preaching. Books and Ordinances here, are 
 
 Cloth and i . o rn i 
 
 Trenchers. but as the laying of the .Trenchers, and as 
 
 setting of Salt upon the Board, when compared with the 
 
SUPPER AT THE INN 311 
 
 Feast that our Lord will make for us when we come to his 
 House. 
 
 So Supper came up, and first a Heave-shoulder and a Wave- 
 Breast was set on the Table before them, to shew that they 
 must begin their Meal with Prayer and Praise to God. The 
 heave-shoulder David lifted his Heart up to God 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. So Gains said to them, Drink freely, this is the Juice 
 of the true Vine, that makes glad the Heart of God and Man. 
 So they drank and were merry. 
 
 The next was a Dish of Milk well crumbed. But Gains 
 said, Let the Boys have that, that they may A Dish of Milk, 
 grow thereby. 
 
 Then they brought up in course a dish of Butter and Hony. 
 Then said Gains, Eat freely of this, for this is of Hony and 
 good to cheer up, and strengthen your Judg- 
 ments and Understandings. This was our Lords Dish when 
 he was a Child. Butter and Hony shall he eat, that he may 
 knozv to refuse the Evil, and chuse the Good. 
 
 Then they brought them up a dish of Apples, and they 
 were very good tasted Fruit. Then said Mat- A DMI of 
 thew, May we eat Apples, since they were such, A PP IS - 
 by, and with which, the Serpent beguiled our first Mother ? 
 
 Then said Gains, 
 
 Apples were they with which we were beguiFd, 
 Yet Sin, not Apples hath our Souls dejiFd. 
 Apples forbid, if eat, corrupts the Blood. 
 To eat such, when commanded, does us good. 
 Drink of his Flagons then, thou Church, his Dove, 
 And eat his Apples, who are sick of Love. 
 
312 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Then said Matthew, I made the Scruple, because I awhile 
 since, was sick with eating of Fruit. 
 
 GAIUS. Forbidden Fruit will make you sick ; but not what 
 our Lord has tolerated. 
 
 While they were thus talking, they were presented with an 
 A Dish of Nuts, other Dish ; and "'twas a dish of Nuts. Then 
 said some at the Table, Nuts spoil tender Teeth ; specially 
 the Teeth of Children. Which when Gaius heard, he said, 
 
 Hard Texts are Nuts (7 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 mddie put ^ man tJ tere was thrf some a ' ta count him mad. 
 
 forth by old 
 
 Honest. The more he cast away, the more he had. 
 
 Then they all gave good heed, wondring what good Gaius 
 would say, so he sat still a while, and then thus replied : 
 
 He that bestows his Goods upon the Poor. 
 
 Gaius opens it. 
 
 shall have as much again, and ten times more. 
 
 Joseph Then said Joseph, I dare say Sir, I did not 
 
 wmders. tnink you CQU ] d ft f()un( | j t out< 
 
 Oh ! Said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way a great 
 while. Nothing teaches like Experience. I have learned of 
 my Lord to be kind, and have found by experience, that 
 I have gained thereby. There is that scattereth, yet increaseth, 
 and there is that witholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth 
 to Poverty. There is that mdketh himself Rich, yet hath 
 
THE RIDDLE 313 
 
 nothing, There is that maketli himself poor, yet hath great 
 Riches. 
 
 Then Samuel whispered to Christiana his Mother, and said, 
 Mother, this is a very good man's House, let us stay here 
 a good while, and let my Brother Matthew be married here to 
 Mercy, before we go any further. 
 
 The which Gains the Host overhearing, said, With a very 
 good Will, my Child. 
 
 So they staid there more than a Month, Matthew and 
 
 ,,.. . , T i.r./. Mercy are 
 
 and Mercy was given to Matthew to Wife. married. 
 
 While they stayed 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 Pilgrims. 
 
 But to return again to our Story. After Supper, the lads 
 desired a Bed, for that they were weary with 
 
 J J T/ l& Boys go to 
 
 Travelling. Then Gains called to shew them bed, the 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, oid Honest 
 
 What Sir, you begin to be drowzy, come, rub nods - 
 
 up, now here's a Riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, let's 
 
 hear it. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, 
 
 He that will kill, must Jirst be overcome : A Riddle, 
 Who live abroad would, Jirst must die at home. 
 
 Hah, said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one, hard to expound, 
 and harder to practise. But come Landlord, said he, I will 
 if you please, leave my part to you ; do you expound it, and 
 I will hear what you say. 
 
314 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 No said Gains, 'twas put to you, and 'tis expected that 
 you should answer it. 
 
 Then said the Old Gentleman, 
 
 The Riddle He Jirst by Grace must conquer d be, 
 
 opened. Tliat Sin would mortify. 
 
 And who, that lives, would convince me, 
 
 Unto himself must die. 
 
 It is right, said Gains, good Doctrine and Experience 
 teaches this. For first, until Grace displays itself, and over- 
 comes 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 the hearing. There were two Men that 
 
 A Question 
 
 north the went on Pilgrimage, the one began when he was 
 
 young, the other when he was old. The young 
 Man had strong Corruptions to grapple with, the old Mans 
 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? 
 
 Hox. The young Mans doubtless. For that which heads 
 A Comparison. it against the greatest Opposition, gives best 
 demonstration that it is strongest. Specially wlioi 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 mistake. selves with this mistake ; Namely, taking the 
 
 */ * O 
 
GIANT SLAY-GOOD 315 
 
 decays of Nature, for a gracious Conquest over Corruptions, 
 and so have been apt to beguile themselves. Indeed old men 
 that are gracious, are best able to give Advice to them that 
 are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness 
 of things. But yet, for an old and a young to set out both 
 together, the young one has the advantage of the fairest 
 discovery of a work of Grace within him, tho' 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 53rd of Isaiah. When he 
 had done, Mr. Honest asked why it was said, Another 
 That the Saviour is said to come out of a dry 0"***"- 
 ground, and also that he had no Form nor Comeliness 
 in him ? 
 
 GREATH. 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 
 Unbelievers, who because they want that Eye, that can see 
 into our Prince's Heart, therefore they judge of him by the 
 meanness of his Outside. 
 
 Just like those that know not that precious Stones are 
 covered over with a homely Crust ; who when they have found 
 one, because they know not what they have found, cast it 
 again away as men do a common Stone. 
 
 Well, said Gaius, Now you are here, and since, as I know, 
 Mr. Great-heart is good at his Weapons, if you please, after 
 we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into the Fields, to 
 see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence, there 
 is one Slay-good, a Giant, that doth much annoy the King's 
 Highway in these parts. And I know whereabout his Haunt 
 is. He is Master of a number of Thieves ; 'twould be well if 
 we could clear these Parts of him. 
 
 M3 
 
316 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 
 He is found him with one Feeble-mind in his Hands, whom 
 n ^ s Servants had brought unto him, having 
 taken him iii the Way; now the Giant was 
 rifling of him, with a purpose after that to pick his Bones. 
 For he was of the nature of Flesh-eaters. 
 
 Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his Friends at 
 the Mouth of his Cave with their Weapons, he demanded 
 what they wanted ? 
 
 GIIEATH. We want thee ; for we are come to revenge the 
 Quarrel of the many that thou hast slain of the Pilgrims, 
 when thou hast dragged them out of the King's High-way; 
 wherefore come out of thy Cave. So he armed himself and 
 
 t/ 
 
 came out, and to a Battle they went, and fought for above an 
 Hour, and then stood still to take Wind. 
 
 SLAYGOOD. Then said the Giant, why are you here on my 
 Ground? 
 
 GREATH. To revenge the Blood of Pilgrims, as I also told 
 thee before ; so they went to it again, and the 
 
 Giant Slat/- J 
 
 good assaulted Giant made Mr. Great-heart give back, but he 
 
 and slain. i 1 1 p i 
 
 came up again, and in the greatness ot 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 
 One Feeble Head, and brought it away to the Inn. He 
 
 mind resetted also took Feeble-mind the Pilgrim, and brought 
 
 from the Giant. , . . ., , . , . , -, . ~., n ,1 
 
 him with him to his Lodgings. When they 
 were come home, they shewed his Head to the Family, and 
 then set it up as they had done others before, for a Terror 
 to those that should attempt to do as he, hereafter. 
 
 Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his 
 hands ? 
 
MR. FEEBLE-MIND AS PILGRIM 317 
 
 FEEBLEM. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as 
 you see, and because Death did usually once 
 
 J J IIoiv Feeble- 
 
 a day knock at my Door, I thought I should mind came to 
 
 never be well at home. So I betook myself to 
 a Pilgrim's Life ; and have travelled hither from the Town 
 of Uncertain, where I and my Father were born. I am 
 a man of no strength at all of Body, nor yet of Mind, 
 but would, if I could, tho' I can but crawl, spend my Life 
 in the Pilgrim's way. When I came at the Gate that is at 
 the head of the Way, the Lord of that place did entertain 
 me freely. Neither objected he against my weakly Looks, 
 nor against my Feeble Mind; but gave me such things 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, 
 
 o 
 
 tho"* none was 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. 
 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 Mark this. 
 him willingly, I believed I should come out alive again. For 
 I have heard, that not any Pilgrim that is taken Captive by 
 violent Hands, if he keeps Heart-whole towards his Master, 
 is by the Laws of Providence to die by the Hand of the 
 Enemy. Robbed, I looked to be, and Robbed to be sure I am ; 
 but I am as you see escaped with Life, for the which I thank 
 my King as Author, and you, as the Means. Other Brunts 
 I also look for, but this I have resolved on, to wit, to run 
 
318 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when 
 Mark this. 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, tho 1 I am, as you 
 see, but of a feeble Mind. 
 
 HON. Then said old Mr. Honest, Have not you some time 
 ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a Pilgrim ? 
 
 FEEBLEM. Acquainted with him ; Yes. He came from the 
 Mr. Fearing Town of Stupidity, which lieth four Degrees to 
 Mr. Feeble- the Northward of the City of Destruction, and 
 
 mind's Uncle. m c , T , , ,- 
 
 as many oft, 01 where 1 was born ; i et we were 
 well acquainted, for indeed he was mine 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 Com- 
 plexion. 
 
 HON. I perceive you know him, and I am apt to believe also 
 Feeble-mind that you were related one to another ; for yon 
 J MT S Fearintfs have his whitely Look, a Cast like his with your 
 Features. Eye, and your Speech is much alike. 
 
 FEEBLEM. 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 my self. 
 
 GAIUS. Come Sir, said good Gaius, be of good Cheer, you 
 
 Gaius Comforts are welcome to me, and to my House ; and what 
 
 thou hast a mind to, call for freely ; and what 
 
 thou wonhVst have my Servants do for thee, they will do it 
 
 with a ready Mind. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is unexpected 
 Notice to be Favor, and as the Sun, shining out of a very 
 
 taken of dark Cloud. Did Giant Slay-good intend me 
 
 Providence. . i i ,1 i 11 
 
 this ravor when he stopci 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 
 
 i 
 it is. 
 
GAIUS AND THE RECKONING 319 
 
 Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gains was thus in talk, 
 there comes one running and called at the Tidings 
 
 Door, and told, That aboSt a Mile and an half Si^SSn 
 off, there was one Mr. Not-right, a Pilgrim, Thunder-boJt, 
 
 , 9 I . , and Mr. Feelle- 
 
 struck dead upon the place where he was, with 7/ifa<r Com- 
 
 a Thunder-bolt. mention it. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He 
 overtook me some days before I came so far as hither, and 
 would be my Company-keeper. He also was with me when 
 Slay-good the Giant took me, but he was nimble of his Heels, 
 and escaped. But it seems, he escaped to die, and I was 
 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 oft times, to the Lowly, Life bequeath. 
 
 / taken was, he did escape and jlee, 
 
 Hands Crost, gives Death to him, and Life to me. 
 
 Now about this time Matthew and Mercy was Married ; 
 also Gaius gave his Daughter Phcebe to James, Matthezvs 
 Brother, to Wife ; after which time, they yet stayed above 
 ten days, at Gaius^s House, spending their time and the 
 Seasons, like as Pilgrims use to do. 
 
 When they were to depart, Gaius made them a Feast, and 
 they did eat and drink, and were merry. Now rite Pilgrims 
 the Hour was come that they must be gone, prepare to go 
 
 "fot^OQ/Fcii 
 
 wherefore Mr. Great-heart called for a Reckon- 
 ing. But Gaius told him that at his House, it was not the 
 Custom for Pilgrims to pay for their Entertainment. He 
 boarded them by the year, but looked for his Pay from 
 the good Samaritan, who had promised him at HOW they greet. 
 
 ,. , , \ . , one another at 
 
 his return, whatsoever Charge he was at with parting. 
 
320 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 them, faithfully to repay him. Then said Mr. Great-heart 
 to him. 
 
 GREATH. 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 Journey after a Godly sort, thou shalt 
 do well. 
 
 Then Gains took his Leave of them all and of 
 
 uaius his last 
 
 kindness to his Children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble- 
 
 Feeble-mind. 7 TT i i xi j i 
 
 mind. He also gave him something to drink 
 by the way. 
 
 Now Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the 
 door, made as if he intended to linger. The which, when 
 Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, Pray 
 do you go along with us, I will be your Conductor, and you 
 shall fair as the rest. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Alas, I want a suitable Companion, you are all 
 F ,, ., lusty and strong, but I, as you see, am weak, 
 forgoing / chuse therefore rather to come behind, lest, 
 
 by reason of my many Infirmities^ I should 
 be both a Burthen to myself and to you. I am, as I said, 
 a man of a weak and feeble Mind, and shall be offended and 
 made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no 
 Laughing ; I shall like no gay Attire, I shall like no unprofitable 
 Questions. Nay, I am so weak a Man, as to be offended with 
 His Excuse for that which others have a liberty to do. I do 
 
 not yet know all the Truth ; I am a very 
 ignorant Christian man ; sometimes if I hear some rejoice 
 in the Lord, it troubles me because I cannot do so too. 
 It is with me as it is with a weak Man among the strong, 
 or as with a sick Man among the healthy, or as a Lamp 
 despised, (He that is ready to slip with his Feet, is as a 
 Lamp despised in the Thought of him that is at ease.) So 
 that I know not what to do. 
 
MR. READY-TO-HALT 321 
 
 GREATH. But Brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have it in 
 Commission, to comfort the feeble-minded, and Great-heart's 
 to support the weak. You must needs go Commission, 
 along with us ; we will wait for you, we will lend you our 
 help, we will deny ourselves of some things, A Chri8tiat 
 both Opinionative and Practical, for your sake ; Spirit. 
 we will not enter into Doubtful Disputations before you, we 
 will be made all things to you rather than you shall be left 
 behind. 
 
 Now, all this while they were at GaiuJs Door ; and behold 
 as they were thus in the heat of their Discourse, Promises. 
 Mr. Ready-to-halt came by, with his Crutches in his hand, 
 and he also was going on Pilgrimage. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Then said Mr. Feeblemind to him, Man! How 
 contest thou hither? I was but just now complain- 
 ing that I had not a suitable Companion, but thou glad to see 
 art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, fom^b^^ 
 good Mr. Ready-to-halt, / hope thee and I may 
 be some help. 
 
 READY-TO-HALT. I shall be glad of thy Company, said the 
 other ; and good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, 
 since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my 
 Crutches. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Nay, said he, tho" 1 I thank thee for thy 
 good Will, I am not inclined to halt afore I am Lame. 
 How be it, I think when occasion is, it may help me against 
 a Dog. 
 
 READYTO. 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. Greatheart, 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, 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Hox. Pray Sir, now we are upon the Road, tell us some 
 New Talk. profitable things of some that have gone on 
 
 Pilgrimage before us. 
 
 GREATH. With a good Will. I suppose you have heard 
 
 how Christian of old, did meet with Apollyon in the Valley of 
 
 Humiliation, and also what hard work he had to go thorow 
 
 the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also I think you cannot 
 
 but have heard how Faithful was put to it with 
 
 i part, from ** 
 
 page 86 to Madam Wanton, with Adam the first, with 
 
 one Discontent, and Shame ; four as deceitful 
 Villains, as a man can meet with upon the Road. 
 
 HON. Yes, I have heard of all this ; but indeed good 
 Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame ; he was an 
 unwearied one. 
 
 GREATH. Ay, for as the Pilgrim well said, He of all men 
 had the wrong Name. 
 
 HON. But prau Sir where was it that Christian 
 
 i part, from * & 
 
 page 93 to and Faithful met Talkative ? that same was also 
 
 page 103. , , 
 
 a notable one. 
 
 GREATH. He was a confident Fool, yet many follow his 
 ways. 
 
 Hox. He had like to a beguiled Faithful. 
 
 GREATH. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly to 
 find him out. Thus they went on till they came at the place 
 Page 105-109. where Evangelist met with Christian and Faith- 
 ful, and prophecied to them of what should befall them at 
 Vanity-Fair. 
 
 GREATH. Then said their Guide, Hereabouts did Christian 
 and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophecied to them 
 of what Troubles they should meet with at Vanity-Fair. 
 
 HON. Say you so ! I dare say it was a hard Chapter Unit 
 then he did read unto them ? 
 
 GREATH. "Twas so, but he gave them encouragement 
 withal. But what do we talk of them, they were a couple 
 
MR. MNASON THE CYPRUSIAN 323 
 
 of Lion-like Men ; they had set their Faces like Flint. Don't 
 you remember how undaunted they were when , part ^ page 
 they stood before the Judge? 114-121. 
 
 HON. Well Faithful bravely Suffered ? 
 
 GREATH. So he did, and as brave things came on't. For 
 Hopeful and some others, as the Story relates it, were Con- 
 verted by his Death. 
 
 HON. Well, but pray go on ; for you are well acquainted 
 with things. 
 
 GREATH. Above all that Christian met with after he had 
 past thorow Vanity-Fair, one By-ends was the i part, page 
 arch one. 
 
 HON. By-Ends , What was he ? 
 
 GREATH. A very arch Fellow, a down-right 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 was 
 ever of any Esteem with any that truly feared God. 
 
 Now by this Time, they were come within sight of the 
 Town of Vanity, where Vanity-Fair is kept. So Thej/ are come 
 when they saw that they were so near the within Sight of 
 Town, they consulted with one another how 
 they should pass thorow 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 
 thorow this Town. Now I am acquainted with one 
 Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by Nation, an old 
 
 Vf J They enter into 
 
 Disciple, at whose House we may Lodge. If one Mr. Mna- 
 you think good, said he, we will turn in there ? 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Content, said Old Honest ; Content, said Christiana ; Con- 
 tent, said Mr. Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now you 
 must think it was Even-tide, by that they got to the outside 
 of the Town, but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the Old 
 Man's House. So thither they came ; and he called at the 
 Door, and the old Man within knew his Tongue so soon as 
 ever he heard it. So he opened, and they all came in. 
 Then said Mnason their Host, How far have ye come 
 to day ? so they said, from the House of Gains our 
 Friend. I promise you, said he, you have gone a good 
 stitch, you may well be a weary ; sit down. So they sat 
 down. 
 
 They are glad of GREATH. Then said their Guide, Come, what 
 entertainment. Cheer Sirs^ I dare say yon are welcome to 
 my Friend. 
 
 MNASON. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do bi<J you Welcome ; 
 and what ever you want, do but say, and we will do what we 
 can to get it for you. 
 
 HON. Our great Want, a while since, zvas Harbor, and good 
 Company, and now I hope we have both. 
 
 MNA. For Harbor you see what it is, but for good Com- 
 pany, that will appear in the Trial. 
 
 GREATH. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the 
 Pilgrims up into their Lodging ? 
 
 MNA. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to their 
 respective Places ; and also shewed 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 ? 
 
 MNA. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few, when 
 compared with them on the other Side. 
 
GOOD PEOPLE IN VANITY TOWN 325 
 
 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, fc like to the appearing of the %% 
 Moon and the Stars to them that are sailing the Town. 
 upon the Seas. 
 
 MXA. Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his Foot, and his 
 Daughter Grace came up; so he said unto her, Soms sent for. 
 Grace go you, tell my Friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, 
 Mr. Love-saint, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that I have 
 a Friend or two at my House, that have a mind this Evening 
 to see them. 
 
 So Grace went to call them, and they came, and after 
 Salutation made, they sat down together at the Table. 
 
 Then said Mr. Mnason, their Landlord, My 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 Sion. But who, quoth he, do you think this is ? 
 pointing with his Finger to Christiana. It is Christiana, the 
 Wife of Christian, that famous Pilgrim, who with Faithful 
 his Brother were so shamefully handled in our Town. At that 
 they stood amazed, saying, we little thought to see Christiana, 
 when Grace came to call us, wherefore this is a very comfort- 
 able Surprize. Then they asked her of her welfare, and if 
 these young Men were her Husbands 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. 
 
 HON. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all some Talk 
 sat down) asked Mr. Contrite and the rest, in JjJjJjjfaS 
 what posture their Town was at present. Contrite. 
 
 CONTRITE. You may be sure we are full of Hurry in Fair 
 time. 'Tis hard keeping our Hearts and Spirits The Fruit ^ 
 in any good Order, when we are in a cumbred Watchfulness. 
 Condition. He that lives in such a place as this is, and 
 
326 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 that lias to do with such as we have, has Need of an Item, 
 to caution him to take heed, every Moment of the Day. 
 
 Hox. But how are your Neighbors for quietness ? 
 
 COXT. They are much more moderate now than formerly. 
 Persecution not You know how Christian and Faithful were used 
 vanity-Fair as a ^ our Town ; but of late, I say, they have 
 formerly. been far more moderate. I think the Blood 
 
 of Faithful lieth with load upon them till now ; for since 
 they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any 
 more. In those Days we were afraid to walk the Streets, 
 but now we can shew our Heads. Then the Name of a Pro- 
 fessor was odious, now specially in some parts of our Town 
 (for you know our Town is large) Religion is counted 
 Honourable. 
 
 The n said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth it with 
 you in your Pilgrimage, how stands the Country affected 
 towards you ? 
 
 Hox. It happens to us, as it happeneth to Wayfaring men ; 
 sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul ; sometimes up 
 hill, sometimes down hill ; we are seldom at a Certainty. 
 The Wind is not always on our Backs, nor is every one 
 a Friend that we meet with in the Way. We have met 
 with some notable Rubs already ; and what are yet behind 
 we know not, but for the most part we find it true, 
 that has been talked of of old : A good Man must suffer 
 Trouble. 
 
 COXT. You talk of Rubs, what Rubs have you met withal? 
 
 IIox. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our Guide, for he can give 
 the best Account of that. 
 
 GREATH. We have been beset three or four times already : 
 First Christiana and her Children were beset with two 
 Ruffians, that they feared would a took away their Lives ; 
 We was beset with Giant Bloody-Man, Giant Maul, and Giant 
 Slay-good. Indeed we did rather beset the last, than were 
 
REQUISITES FOR PILGRIMAGE 327 
 
 beset of him. And thus it was : After we had been some 
 time at the House of Gains, mine Host and of the ivhole 
 Church, we were minded upon a time to take our Weapons 
 with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those 
 that were Enemies to Pilgrims ; (for we heard that there 
 was a notable one thereabouts.) Now Gains knew his Haunt 
 better than I, because he dwelt thereabout, so we looked and 
 looked, till at last we discerned the Mouth of his Cave ; then 
 we were glad and pluck'd up our Spirits. So we approached 
 up to his Den, and lo when we came there, he had dragged 
 by mere force into his Net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, 
 and was about to bring him to his End. But when he saw 
 
 o 
 
 us, supposing, as we thought, he had had another Prey, he left 
 the poor man in his Hole, and came out. So we fell to it full 
 sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but, in conclusion, he was 
 brought down to the Ground, and his Head cut off, and set 
 up by the Way side for a Terror to such as should after 
 practise such Ungodliness. That I tell you the Truth, here 
 is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a Lamb taken out 
 of the Mouth of the Lion. 
 
 FEEBLEM. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true to 
 my Cost, and Comfort. To my Cost, when he threatned to 
 pick my Bones every Moment, and to my Comfort, when I saw 
 Mr. Great-heart and his Friends with their Weapons approach 
 so near for my Deliverance. 
 
 HOLY-MAN. Then said Mr. Holy -man, there are two things 
 that they have need to be possessed with that ^/ r . Hoiyman's 
 go on Pilgrimage, Courage, and an unspotted s P eech - 
 Life. If they have not Courage, they can never hold on 
 their way ; and if their Lives be loose, they will make the 
 very name of a Pilgrim stink. 
 
 LOVES. Then said Mr. Love-saint ; I hope this Caution is 
 not needful amongst you. But truly there are ^/ r . Love- 
 many that go upon the Road, that rather saint's Speech. 
 
328 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 declare themselves Strangers to Pilgrimage, than Strangers 
 and Pilgrims in the Earth. 
 
 DARENOT. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lye, "Tis true; they 
 Mr. Dare-not- neither have the Pilgrims Weed, nor the Pilgrims 
 lye MS Speech. 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 the 
 Disparagement of their Lord. 
 
 PENIT. These things said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be 
 Mr. Penitent troubled for, nor are the Pilgrims like to 'have 
 Jus Speech. that Grace put upon them and their Pilgrim's 
 
 Progress, as they desire, until the way is cleared of such 
 Spots and Blemishes. 
 
 Thus they sat talking and spending the time, until Supper 
 was set upon the Table. Unto which they went and refreshed 
 their weary Bodies, so they went to Rest. Now they stayed 
 in this Fair a great while, at the House of this Mr. Mnason, 
 who in process of time, gave his Daughter Grace 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 was 
 not now as in former times.) Wherefore the Pilgrims grew 
 
 O O 
 
 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 Bellvs and Backs 
 
 J 
 
 blessed her, and she was there an Ornament to her Profession. 
 And to say the truth for Grace, Phoebe, and Martha, they 
 were all of a very good Nature, and did much good in their 
 place. They were all also of them very Fruitful, so that 
 Christians Name, as was said before, was like to live in the 
 AVorld. 
 
 While thi'y lay here, there came a Monster out of the 
 ^i Monster. Woods, and slew many of the People of the 
 
 Town. It would also carry away their Children, and teach 
 them to suck its AVhelps. Now no Man in the Town durst 
 
c 
 
 K 
 CS 
 
 53 
 
 o 
 
 05 
 
 K 
 
 t: 
 
 H 
 
 C/3 
 
 K 
 
 a 
 H 
 
THE MONSTERS HAVOCK 331 
 
 so much as face this Monster; but all Men fled when they 
 heard of the noise of his coming. 
 
 The Monster was like unto no one Beast upon the Earth. 
 Its Body was like a Dragon, and it had seven nis shape. 
 Heads and ten Horns. It made great havock His Nature. 
 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. 
 
 Now this Mr. Great-heart, together with these that came to 
 visit the Pilgrims at Mr. Mnasoii's House, entered into 
 a Covenant to go and engage this Beast, if perhaps they 
 might deliver the People of this Town from the Paw and 
 Mouths of this so devouring a Serpent. 
 
 Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, 
 Mr. Dare-not-lye, and Mr. Penitent, with their How he is 
 Weapons go forth to meet him. Now the ^d^ged- 
 Monster at first was very Rampant, and looked upon these 
 Enemies with great Disdain ; but they so belabored him, being 
 sturdy men at Arms, that they made him make a Retreat ; 
 so they came home to Mr. Mnasons 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 ; 
 in so much, that in process of time, he became not only 
 wounded, but lame ; also he has not made that havock of 
 the Towns-men's 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 them. Upon this account therefore it was that 
 
332 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 these Pilgrims got not much hurt there. True, there M-ere 
 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 Adven- 
 tures. 
 
 Well, the time grew on that the Pilgrims must go on their 
 way, wherefore they prepared for their Journey. They sent 
 for their Friends, they conferred with them, they had some 
 time set apart therein to commit each other to the protection 
 of their Prince. There was again that brought them of such 
 things as they had, that was fit for the weak and the strong, 
 for the Women and the men ; and so laded them with such 
 things as was necessary. 
 
 Then they set forwards on their way, and their Friends 
 accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again 
 committed each other to the Protection of their King, and 
 parted. 
 
 They therefore that were of the Pilgrims' Company went 
 on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now the Women 
 and Children being weakly, they were forced to go as they 
 could bear, by this means Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble- 
 mind had more to sympathize with their Condition. 
 
 When they were gone from the Townsmen, and when their 
 Friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place 
 where Faithful was put to Death. There therefore they made 
 a stand, and thanked him that had enabled him to bear his 
 Cross so well, and the rather, because they now found that 
 they had a benefit by such a manly Suffering as his was. 
 
 They went on therefore after this a good way further, talk ing 
 of Christian and Faithful, and how Hopeful joined himself to 
 Christian after that Faithful was dead. 
 
 Now they were come up with the HUL Lucre, where the 
 \part,pagei$u. Silver-mine was, which took Dcmas off' from his 
 Pilgrimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell and 
 
THE GOOD SHEPHERD 333 
 
 perished ; wherefore they considered that. But when they 
 were come to the old Monument that stood over against the 
 Hill Lucre, to wit, to the Pillar of Salt that stood also within 
 view of Sodom, and its stinking Lake, they marvelled, as did 
 Christian before, that men of that Knowledge and ripeness 
 of Wit as they was^ 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, specially 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 Mount- i part, page 137. 
 ains. To the River where the fine Trees grow on both 
 sides, and whose Leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against 
 Surfeits ; where the Meadows are green all the year long, and 
 where they might lie down safely. 
 
 By this River-side in the Meadow, there were Cotes and 
 Folds for Sheep, an House built for the nourishing, and 
 bringing up of those Lambs, the Babes of those Women that 
 go on Pilgrimage. Also there was here one that was intrusted 
 with them, who could have compassion, and that could gather 
 these Lambs with his Arm, and carry them in his Bosom, and 
 that could gently lead those that were with young. Now to 
 the Care of this Man, Christiana admonished her four Daugh- 
 ters to commit their little ones ; that by these Waters they 
 might be housed, harbored, succoured, and nourished, and 
 that none of them might be lacking in time to come. This 
 man, if any of them go astray or be lost, he will bring them 
 again, he will also bind up that which was broken, and will 
 strengthen them that are sick. Here they will never want 
 Meat and Drink and Cloathing, here they will be kept from 
 Thieves and Robbers, for this man will die before one of those 
 committed to his Trust shall be lost. Besides, here they shall 
 be sure to have good Nurture and Admonition, and shall be 
 
334 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 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 wholsome Fruit. Fruit, not like that 
 that Matthew eat of, that fell over the Wall out of 
 Beelzebub^s Garden, but Fruit that procureth Health where 
 
 there is none, and that continueth and increaseth it where 
 I 
 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 
 
 o 
 
 the King, and so was as an Hospital to young Children, 
 and Orphans. 
 
 Now they went on : and when they were come to By-path 
 rr . Meadow, to the Stile over which Christian went 
 
 They being come 
 
 to By-path with his Fellow Hopeful, when they were taken 
 
 mind to have by Giant Despair, and put into Doubting Castle, 
 
 ^ian^De^air tne ^ sat down ail( l consulted what was best to 
 i part, page be done, to wit, now they were so strong, and 
 had got such a man as Mr. Great-heart for their 
 Conductor ; whether they had not best to make an Attempt 
 upon the Giant, demolish his Castle, and if there were any 
 Pilgrims in it, to set them at liberty before they went any 
 further. So one said one thing, and another said the con- 
 trary. One questioned if it "\vas lawful to go upon uncon- 
 secrated Ground, another said they might, provided their 
 end was good ; but Mr. Great-heart said, Though that as- 
 sertion offered last, cannot be universally true, yet I have 
 a Commandment to resist Sin, to overcome Evil, to fi^ht the 
 
 O 
 
 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 Christians 
 
GIANT DESPAIR SLAIN 335 
 
 four Sons, Matthew p , Samuel, James., and Joseph, for they were 
 young men and strong. 
 
 So they left the Women in the Road, and with them 
 Mr. Feeble-mind, and Mr. Ready-to-halt, with his Crutches, to 
 be their Guard, until they came back, for in that place tho' 
 Giant-Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the Road, a little 
 Child might lead them. 
 
 So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the four young men, 
 went to go up to Doubti?ig-C&st\e to look for Giant- Despair. 
 When they came at the Castle Gate they knocked for En- 
 trance with an unusual Noise. At that the old Giant comes 
 to the Gate, and Diffidence his Wife follows. Then said he, 
 Who, and what is he, that is so hardy, as after this manner 
 to molest the Giant- Despair? Mr. Great-heart replied, It is 
 I, Great-heart, one of the King of the Coelestial Country's 
 Conductors of Pilgrims to their Place. And I demand of 
 thee that thou open thy Gates for my Entrance, prepare thy- 
 self also to fight, for I am come to take away thy Head, and 
 to demolish Doubting Castle. 
 
 Now Giant- Despair, because he was a Giant, thought no 
 man could overcome him, and again, thought he, Deg air Ms 
 since heretofore I have made a Conquest of overcome 
 Angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid ? So 
 he harnessed himself and went out. He had a Cap of Steel 
 upon his Head, a Breast-plate of Fire girded to him, and he 
 came out in Iron-Shoes, with a great Club in his Hand. 
 Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind 
 and before ; also when Diffidence, the Giantess, came up to 
 help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one Blow. Then 
 they fought for their Lives, and Giant Despair was brought 
 down to the Ground, but was very loth to die. Despair is loth 
 He strugled hard, and had, as they say, as todie - 
 many Lives as a Cat, but Great-heart was his death, for he 
 left him not till he had severed his Head from his shoulders. 
 
336 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Then they fell to demolishing Doubting-Castle, and that 
 you know might with ease be done, since 
 
 Doubting- J 
 
 Castle Giant-Despair was dead. They was seven Days 
 
 demolished. .-. . p i i -^ r> TVI 
 
 in destroying ot that ; and in it or Pilgrims 
 they found one Mr. Dependency, almost starved to Death, 
 and one Much-afraid his Daughter; these two they saved 
 alive. But it would a 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. Great-heart and his Companions had performed 
 this Exploit, they took Mr. Dispondency, and his Daughter 
 Mitch-afraid into their Protection, for they were honest 
 People, tho' 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 Com- 
 panions they came, and shewed them what they had done. 
 Now when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it was the 
 Head of Giant-Despair indeed, they were very jocund and 
 merry. Now Christiana, if need was, could play upon the 
 They have Viol, and her Daughter Mercy upon the Lute ; 
 
 Tfancingfto- so ' s * llce ^ ne y were so merry disposed, she plaid 
 J oy- them a Lesson, and Ready-to-halt would Dance. 
 
 So he took Dispondency's Daughter, named Much-afraid, by 
 the Hand, and to dancing they went in the Road. True 
 he could not dance without one Crutch in his Hand, but 
 I promise you, he footed it well ; also the Girl was to be 
 commended, for she answered the Musick handsomely. 
 
 As for Mr. Dispondency, the Musick 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 some- 
 thing to eat ; and in little time the old Gentleman came 
 to himself, and began to be finely revived. 
 
 ^ tj 
 

 GIANT DESPAIR SLAIN AND DOUBTING CASTLE DEMOLISHED. 
 
THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS 339 
 
 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 T , right over against 
 the Pillar that Christian erected for a Caution to Pilgrims 
 that came after, to take heed of entering into his Grounds. 
 
 Then he writ under it upon a Marble-stone, these Verses 
 following. 
 
 This is the Head of him, Whose Name only A Monument of 
 
 In former times, did Pilgrims terrify. 
 
 His Castle's down, and Diffidence his Wife, 
 
 Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of Life. 
 
 Dispondency, his Daughter Much-afraid, 
 
 Great-heart for them also the Man has plaid. 
 
 Who hereof doubts, if he'll but cast his Eye 
 
 Up hither, may his Scruples satisfy. 
 
 This Head also, when doubting Cripples dance, 
 
 Doth shew from Fears they have Deliverance. 
 
 When these men had thus bravely shewed themselves 
 against Doubting Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they 
 went forward, and went on till they came to the Delectable 
 Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves 
 with the Varieties of the Place. They also acquainted them- 
 selves with the Shepherds there, who welcomed them as they 
 had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. 
 
 Now the Shepherds seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great- 
 heart (for with him they were well acquainted ;) they said 
 unto him, Good Sir, you have got a goodly Company here ; 
 pray where did you find all these ? 
 
 1 Tho' Doubting-Castle be demolished 
 And the Giant despair hath lost his head 
 Sin can rebuild the Castle, make't remain, 
 And make Despair the Giant live again. 
 
 N 
 

 340 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Then Mr. Great-heart replyed, 
 
 First here's Christiana and her train, 
 
 The Guides 
 
 Speech to the Her Soiu, and her Sons' Wives, who like the 
 
 Shepherds, TTr . 
 
 Wain, 
 
 Keep by the Pole, and do by Compass steer, 
 From Sin to Grace, else they had not been 
 
 here. 
 
 Next here^s old Honest come on Pilgrimage, 
 Ready-to-halt too, who, I dare engage, 
 True hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, 
 Who willing was not to be left behind. 
 Dispondency, good-man, is coming- after, 
 And so also is Much-afraid, his Daughter. 
 May we have Entertainment here, or must 
 We further go? lefs know whereon to trust? 
 
 Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable Company. 
 Their Enter- You are welcome to us, for we have for the 
 Feeble, as for the Strong; our Prince has an 
 Eye to what is done to the least of these. Therefore 
 Infirmity must not be a block to our Entertainment. 
 So they had them to the Palace Door, and then said 
 unto them, Come in Mr. Feeble-mind, come in Mr. Ready- 
 to-halt, come in Mr. Dispondency, 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 
 
 / v 
 
 subject to draw back ; but as for you, and the rest that 
 are strong, we leave you to your wonted Liberty. Then 
 said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that Grace doth shine in 
 your Faces, and that you are my Lord's Shepherds indeed ; 
 for that you have not pushed these Diseased 
 
 A Description t < J 
 
 of false neither with Side nor Shoulder, but have rather 
 
 strewed their way into the Palace with Flowers, 
 as you should. 
 
THE SHEPHERDS ENTERTAINMENT 341 
 
 So the Feeble and Weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and 
 the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the 
 Shepherds said to those of the weakest 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 respectively unto his proper place. When Morning was 
 come, because the mountains were high, and the day^clear; 
 and because it was the Custom of the Shepherds to sjiew to 
 the Pilgrims before their Departure some Rarities ; therefore \ 
 after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the 
 Shepherds took them out into the Fields, and shewed them 
 first what they had shewed to Christian before. * 
 
 Then they had them to some new places. The first \yas to 
 Mount-Marvel, where they looked, and beheld Mount Marvel. 
 a man at a Distance, that tumbled the Hills about with Words. 
 Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean ? So 
 they told him, that that man was the Son of one Great- 
 grace, of whom you read in the first part of the i part, page 154. 
 Records of the Pilgrim 's Progress. And he is set there to 
 teach Pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their 
 ways what Difficulties they shall meet with, by Faith. 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 cloathed all Mount innocent. 
 in White ; and two men, Prejudice, and Ill-will, continually 
 casting Dirt upon him. Now behold the Dirt, whatsoever 
 they cast at him, would in little time fall off again, and 
 his Garment would look as clear as if no Dirt had been 
 cast thereat. 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims what means this ? The Shepherds 
 
342 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 answered, This man is named Godly-man, and this Garment 
 is to shew the Innocency of his Life. Now those that throw 
 Dirt at him, are such as hate his Welldoing ; but as you see 
 the Dirt will not stick upon his Cloaths, so it shall be with 
 him that liveth truly innocently in the World. Whoever 
 they be that would make such men dirty, they labor all in 
 vain ; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that 
 their Innocence shall break forth as the Light, and their 
 Righteousness as the Noon day. 
 
 Then they took them, and had them to Mount-Charity, 
 Mount Charity, where they shewed 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 shew you, that he that has a Heart to give 
 of his Labor to the Poor, shall never want where-withal. 
 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, 
 The work of anc ^ one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian 
 one Fool, and with intention to make him white, but the 
 
 one Want-ivit. , -i-ii- 1111 i 
 
 more 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 an 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 
 i part, page 149. Mother, Mother, I would, if it might be, see 
 
 mSt^the the hole in the Hil1 ? or that > commonly called, 
 hole in the Hill, the By-way to Hell. So her Mother brake her 
 
THE LOOKING-GLASS FOR MERCY 343 
 
 mind to the Shepherds. Then they went to the Door. 
 It was in the side of an Hill, and they opened it, and bid 
 Mercy hearken awhile. So she hearkened, and heard one 
 saying, Cursed be my Father for holding of my Feet back 
 from the way of Peace and Life ; and another said, O that 
 I had been torn in pieces before I had, to save my Life, 
 lost my Soul; and another said, If I were to live again, how 
 would I deny myself rather than come to this place. Then 
 there Avas 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 is delivered from this Place. 
 
 Now when the Shepherds had shewed them all these things, 
 then they had them back to the Palace, and entertained 
 them with what the House would afford. But Mercy longeth 
 Mercy, being a young and breeding Woman, and for what. 
 longed for something that she saw there, but was ashamed 
 to ask. Her Mother-in-law then asked her what she ailed, 
 for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There 
 is a Looking-glass hangs up in the Dining-room, off' of 
 which I cannot take my mind ; if therefore I have it not, 
 I think I shall miscarry. Then said her Mother, I will 
 mention thy Wants to the Shepherds, and they will not 
 deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men 
 should know that I longed. Nay my Daughter, said she, 
 it is no Shame, but a Virtue, to long for such a thing as 
 that. So Mercy said, Then Mother, if you please, ask the 
 Shepherds if they are willing to sell it. 
 
 Now the Glass was one of a thousand. It would present 
 a man, one way, with his own Feature exactly, It was the Word 
 and turn it but another way, and it would of God. 
 shew one the very Face and Similitude of the Prince of 
 Pilgrims himself. Yea I have talked with them that can 
 tell, and they have said that they have seen the very 
 
344 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Crown of Thorns upon his Head, by looking in that Glass, 
 they have therein also seen the holes in his Hands, in his 
 Feet, and his Side. Yea such an excellency is there in 
 that Glass, that it will shew him to one where they have 
 a mind 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 Suffer, or coming to Reign. 
 Christia7ia therefore went to the Shepherds apart. (Now 
 i part, page 148. the Names of the Shepherds are Knowledge, 
 Experience, Watchful, and Sincere) and said unto them, 
 There is one of my Daughters a breeding Woman, that I 
 think doth lone; for something that she hath seen in this 
 
 o o 
 
 House, and she thinks she shall miscarry if she should by 
 you be denyed. 
 
 EXPERIENCE. Call her, call her, she shall assuredly have 
 what we can help her to. So they called her, 
 
 khe doth not r . 
 
 Jose her and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou 
 
 wouldest have ? Then she blushed and said, 
 The great Glass that hangs up in the Dining-room. So 
 Sincere ran and fetched it, and with a joyful Consent it 
 was given her. Then she bowed her Head and gave Thanks, 
 and said. By this I know that I have obtained Favor in your 
 
 / * 
 
 Eyes. 
 
 They also gave to the other young Women such things as 
 they desired, and to their Husbands great Commendations 
 for that they joined with Mr. Great-heart to the slaying of 
 Giant-Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting- Castle. 
 
 About Christianas Neck, the Shepherds put a Bracelet, 
 
 and so they did about the Necks of her four 
 How the Shep- . . . 
 
 herds adorn the Daughters, also they put Ear-rings in then- 
 Ears, and Jewels on their Foreheads. 
 
 When they were minded to go hence, they let them go 
 in Peace, but gave not to them those certain Cautions which 
 i part,page 151. before was given to Christian and his Companion. 
 
TURN-AWAY OF APOSTACY 345 
 
 The Reason was for that these had Great-heart to be their 
 Guide, who was one that was well acquainted with things, 
 and so could give them their Cautions more seasonably, to 
 wit, even then when the Danger was nigh the approach- 
 ing. 
 
 What Cautions Christian and his Companions had received 
 of the Shepherds, they had also lost by that the ipart,page 161. 
 time was come that they had need to put them in practise. 
 Wherefore here was the Advantage that this Company had 
 over the other. 
 
 From hence they went on Singing, and they said, 
 
 Behold, how fitly are the Stages set ! 
 For their Relief that Pilgrims are become ; 
 And how they us receive without one let, 
 That make the other Life our Mark and Home. 
 What Novelties they have, to us they give, 
 That we, tho" 1 Pilgrims joyful Lives may Live ; 
 They do upon us too such things bestow, 
 That shew we Pilgrims are, wherever we go. 
 
 When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly 
 came to the place where Christian met with one lpart 
 Turn-away, that dwelt in the Town of Apostacy. 1 53- 
 Wherefore of him Mr. Great-heart their Guide did now put 
 them in mind; saying, This is the place where Christian met 
 with one Turn-away, who carried with him the Character of 
 his Rebellion at his Back. And this I have to say concern- 
 ing; this man, He would hearken to no Counsel, 
 
 ' . 11 oio one Turn- 
 
 but once falling, perSWaslOll could not Stop aicay managed 
 
 him. When he came to the place where the 
 Cross and the Sepulchre was, he did meet with one that 
 did bid him look there; but he gnashed with his Teeth, 
 and stamped, and said, he was resolved to go back to 
 
346 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 his own Town. Before he came to the Gate, he met with 
 Evangelist, who offered to lay Hands on him, to turn him 
 into the way again. But this Turn-away resisted him, and 
 having done much despite unto him, he got away over the 
 Wall, and so escaped his Hand. 
 
 Then they went on, and just at the place where Little-faith 
 
 formerly was Robbed, there stood a man with his Sword 
 
 drawn, and his Face all bloody. Then said Mr. Great-heart 
 
 What art thou ? The man made Answer, saying, I am one 
 
 whose Name is Valiant- for-Truth. I am a Pil- 
 
 One Valiant- 
 
 for-Tmth beset grim, and am going to the Ccelestial City. 
 
 tvith Thieves. XT T 1 1 , i 
 
 JNow as 1 was in my way, there was three men 
 did beset me, and propounded unto me these three things. 
 1. Whether I would become one of them ? 2. Or go back 
 
 o 
 
 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. Then they demanded what 
 I would say to the second. So I told them that the Place 
 from whence I came, had I not found Incommodity there, 
 I had not forsaken it at all, but finding it altogether 
 unsuitable to me, and very unprofitable for me, I forsook 
 it for this Way. Then they asked me what I said to the 
 third. And I told them, my Life cost more dear far, than 
 that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have 
 nothing to do thus to put things to my Choice ; wherefore 
 at your Peril be it, if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, 
 Wildhead) Inconsiderate, and Pragmatick, drew upon me, and 
 I also drew upon them. 
 
 So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of above 
 behaved three Hours. They have left upon me, as you 
 see 5 some of the Marks of their Valour, and 
 have also carried away with them some of 
 mine, They are but just now gone. I suppose they might, 
 
VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH 347 
 
 as the saying is, hear your Horse dash, and so they betook 
 them to flight. 
 
 GREATH. But here was great Odds, three 
 
 Great-heart 
 agaimt One. wonders at his 
 
 VALIANT. Tis true, but little and more, are Valour ' 
 nothing to him that has the Truth on his side. Though 
 an Host should encamp against me, said one, my Heart shall 
 not fear. Tho 1 War should rise against me, in this will I 
 be Confident, &c. Besides, said he, I have read in some 
 Records, that one man has fought an army ; and how many 
 did Sampson slay with the Jaw-Bone of an Ass ? 
 
 G RKATH. Then said the Guide, Why did you not cry out, 
 that some might a come In for your Succour? 
 
 VALIANT. So I did, to my King, who I knew could hear, 
 and afford invisible Help, and that was sufficient for me. 
 
 GREATH. Then said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant-for-truth, 
 Thou hast worthily behaved thyself; let me see thy Sword. 
 So he shewed it him. 
 
 When he had taken it in his Hand, and looked -thereon 
 a while, he said, Ha ! It Is a right Jerusalem Blade. 
 
 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 all. 
 
 GREATH. 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 The Wo/ , d 
 a Sword grew out of my Arm, and when the The Faith. 
 Blood run thorow my Fingers, then I fought 
 with most Courage. 
 
 GREATH. Thou hast done well. Thou hast resisted unto 
 
 N3 
 
34.8 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Bloody striving against Sin. Thou shalt abide by us, come 
 iiiy 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 
 together. Now as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart 
 
 O *J 
 
 was delighted in him (for he loved one greatly that he found 
 to be a man of his Hands) and because there was with his 
 Company them that was feeble and weak, therefore he 
 questioned with him about many things ; as first, what 
 Country-man he was ? 
 
 VALIANT. I am of Dark-land, for there I was born, and 
 there my Father and Mother are still. 
 
 GREATH. Dark-land, said the Guide, Doth not that lye upon 
 the same Coast with the City of Destruction ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes it doth. Now that which caused me to 
 HOW Mr. come on Pilgrimage, was this. We had one 
 
 togo a on ame Mr - Tell-true came into our parts, and he told 
 Pilgrimage. jt about what Christian had done, that went 
 from the City of Destruction. Namely, how he had forsaken 
 his Wife and Children, and had betaken himself to a Pilgrims 
 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 thorow to whither he intended. It was also 
 told what Welcome he had at all his Lord's Lodgings ; 
 specially when he came to the Gates of the Coelestial 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 rins; for Joy at his 
 
 / O tf 
 
 Reception, and what Golden Garments he was cloathed 
 with ; with many other things that now I shall forbear to 
 relate. In a word, that man so told the Story of Christian 
 
 *. 
 
 and his Travels, that my Heart fell into a burning haste to 
 be gone after him, nor could Father or Mother stay me, so 
 I got from them, and am come thus far on my Way. 
 
CHRISTIANS NAME FAMOUS 349 
 
 GIIEATH. You came in at the Gate, did you not ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes, yes. For the same man also told us, that 
 all would be nothing, if we did not begin to He begins right. 
 enter this way at the Gate. 
 
 GREATH. Look you, said the Guide, to Christiana, The Pil- 
 grimage of your Husband, and what he has Christian's 
 gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. 
 
 VALIANT. Why, is this Christians Wife ? 
 
 GIIEATH. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four Sons. 
 
 VALIANT. What ! and going on Pilgrimage too ? 
 
 GREATH. Yes verily, they are following after. 
 
 VALIANT. It glads me at Heart ! Good man ! How Joy- 
 ful will he be, when he shall see them that He is much 
 would not go with him, yet to enter after him %%% "* 
 in at the Gates into the City ? Wi f e - 
 
 GREATH. 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 his 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 ? 
 
 GREATH. Do they think they shall know themselves then ? 
 Or that they shall rejoyce to see themselves in that Bliss? And 
 if they think they shall know and do these, why not know 
 others, and rejoyce in their Welfare also ? 
 
 Again, since Relations are our second self, tho" 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? 
 
 VALIANT. Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. 
 Have you any more things to ask me about my beginning to 
 come on Pilgrimage ? 
 
 GREATH. Yes. Was your Father and Mother willing that 
 you should become a Pilgrim ? 
 
350 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 VALIANT. Oh, no. They used all means imaginable to 
 perswade me to stay at Home. 
 
 GREATH. Why, what could they say against it ? 
 
 VALIANT. They said it was an idle Life, and if I myself 
 'Jiie great were not inclined to Sloth and Laziness, I would 
 
 stumbling- -p,.* . , ^ ! 
 
 Blocks never countenance a rilgrim s Condition. 
 
 that by hts GREATH. And zvhat did they say else ? 
 
 Fnends were & & 
 
 laid in his way. 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. 
 
 GREATH. Did they show wherein this way is so danger- 
 ous ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes, and that in many Particulars. 
 
 GREATH. Name some of them. 
 
 VALIANT. They told me of the Slough of Dispond, where 
 The first Christian was well-nigh smothered. They told 
 
 stumbling me that there were Archers standing ready in 
 
 Block. 
 
 Beelzebub- 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, Maid, 
 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 Ruins that 
 the Pilgrims met with there. Further, they said, I must go 
 over the enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And that 
 after all this, I should find a River, over which I should find 
 no Bridge, and that that River did lie betwixt me and the 
 Coelestial Country. 
 
 GREATH. And was this all? 
 
THE STUMBLING-BLOCKS 351 
 
 VALIANT. No, they also told me that this way was full of 
 Deceivers, and of Persons that laid await there, The Second. 
 to turn good men out of the Path. 
 
 GREATH. But how did they make that out ? 
 
 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 Demas, would go near 
 to gather me up ; that the Flatterer would catch me in his 
 Net ; or that with green-headed Ignorance I would presume 
 to go on to the Gate, from whence he always was sent back 
 to the Hole that was in the side of the Hill, and made to go 
 the By-way to Hell. 
 
 GREATH. / promise you, this was enough to discourage. 
 But did they make an end here ? 
 
 VALIANT. No, stay. They told me also of many that had 
 tried that way of old, and that had gone a great The Third. 
 way therein, to see if they could find something of the Glory 
 there that so many had so much talked of from time to 
 time ; and how they came back again, and befooled them- 
 selves 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. 
 
 GREATH. Said they any thing more to discourage you ? 
 
 VALIANT. Yes, they told me of one Mr. Fearing, who w r as 
 a Pilgrim, and how he found this way so The Fourth. 
 solitary, that he never had comfortable Hour therein ; also 
 that Mr. Dispondency had like to 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 
 
352 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Ventures for a Coelestial Crown, was certainly drowned in 
 the black River, and never went foot further, however it was 
 smothered up. 
 
 GREATH. And did none of these thing's discourage you ? 
 
 VALIANT. No. They seemed but as so many Nothings to me. 
 
 GREATH. How came that about ? 
 
 . got or VALIANT. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell- 
 these stumbling- true had said ; and that carried me beyond 
 
 Blocks. ,, n 
 
 them all. 
 
 GREATH. Then this was your Victory, even your Faith. 
 
 VALIANT. It was so. I believed and therefore came out, 
 got into the Way, fought all that set themselves against me, 
 and by believing n,m come to this Place. 
 
 J O 
 
 Who would true Valour see. 
 Let him come hither ; 
 One here will constant he, 
 Come Wind, come Weather. 
 Thews no Discouragement, 
 
 ~ 
 
 Shall make him once Relent, 
 His first avowed Intent, 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 C5 
 
 Who so beset him round 
 With dismal Stories, 
 Do but themselves confound, 
 His Strength the more is. 
 No Lion can him fright, 
 He 11 with a Giant Fight. 
 But he will have a rig/it, 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 Hobgoblin, n or foul Fiend, 
 Can daunt his Spirit ; 
 He "knows, he at the end, 
 Shall Life Inherit. 
 
THE ENCHANTED GROUND 353 
 
 Then Fancies fly away, 
 Hill fear not what men say, 
 He^ll labor Night and Day, 
 To be a Pilgrim. 
 
 By this time they were got to the enchanted Ground, where 
 the Air naturally tended to make one Drowsy, \part, page \6$, 
 And that place was all grown over with Briars and Thorns ; 
 excepting here and there, where was an enchanted Arbor, upon 
 which, if a Man sits, or in which if a man sleeps, "'tis a question, 
 say some, whether ever they shall rise or wake again in this 
 World. Over this Forest therefore they went, both one 
 with another, and Mr. Great-heart went before, for that he 
 was the Guide, and Mr. Valiant-for-trnth, 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. Dispondency was under the Eye 
 of Mr. Valiant. 
 
 Now they had not gone far, but a great Mist and a Dark- 
 ness 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 Women 
 and Children, who both of Feet and Heart were but tender. 
 Yet so it was, that, thorow the incouraging Words of he 
 that led in the Front, and of him that brought them up 
 behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. 
 
 The Way also was here very wearisome thorow Dirt and 
 
354 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Slabbiness. Nor 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 crys out, I am down, and another, 
 Ho, where are you ? and a third, the Bushes have got such 
 fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them. 
 
 Then they came at an Arbor, warm, and promising much 
 An Arbor on Refreshing to tha Pilgrims; for it was finely 
 the. inchanting wrought above-head, beautified with Greens, 
 furnished with Benches and Settles. It also had 
 in it a soft Couch whereon the weary might lean. This, 
 you must think, all things considered, was tempting ; for the 
 Pilgrims already began tj be foiled with the badness of the 
 way ; but there was not one of them that made so much as 
 a motion to stop there. Yea, for ought 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. 
 The Name of This Arbor was called The slothfuTs 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 
 TJie Way dif- solitary Ground, till they came to a place at 
 which a man is apt to lose his Way. Now, 
 tho' when it was light, their Guide could well enough tell 
 how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he 
 The Guide has was P u ^ ^ a stand. But he had in his Pocket 
 
 a Map of ail a Mai) of all ways leading to or from the 
 
 ways leading to ^ i , PI 
 
 or from the Coalestial City: wherefore he strook a Limit 
 
 ft, 
 
 (for he never goes also without his Tinder-box) 
 
HEEDLESS AND TOO-BOLD 355 
 
 and takes a view of his Book or Map, which bids him he 
 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 Pilgrim- 
 age, but would have one of these Maps about God's Book. 
 him, that he may look when he is at a stand, which is the way 
 
 / 
 
 he must take. 
 
 They went on then in this enchanted Ground, till they 
 came to where was an other Arbor, and it was An Arbor and 
 built by the Hi;h- way-side. And in that Arbor tivo asleep 
 
 therein. 
 
 there lay two men whose Names were Heedless 
 and Too-bold. These two went thus far on Pilgrimage ; but 
 here being wearied with their Journy, they sat down to rest 
 themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the Pilgrims saw 
 them, they stood still and shook their Heads, for they knew 
 that the Sleepers were in a pitiful Case. Then they consulted 
 what to do, whether to go on and leave them in their Sleep, 
 or to step to them and try to awake them. So they concluded 
 to go to them and wake them ; that is, if they could ; but 
 with this Caution, namely, to take heed that themselves did 
 not sit down nor embrace tti3 offered Benefit of that Arbor. 
 
 So they went in and spake to the men, and called each by 
 his Name, (for the Guide, it seems, did know __ ., . 
 
 J /to x tt(f) % 'i'J)1S 
 
 them) but there was no Voice nor Answer, try to wake 
 
 fjtj) -1 M 
 
 Then the Guide did shake them, and do what 
 
 he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, / will pay 
 
 you when I take my Mony. At which the Guide shook his 
 
 Head. / will fight so long as I can hold my Sword in 
 
 my Handy said the other. At that, one of the Children 
 
 laughed. 
 
356 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Then said Christiana, what is the meaning of this ? The 
 . Guide said, They talk in their Sleep. If you 
 
 deavour is strike them, beat them, or what ever 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 I aicake I will seek it again. 
 You know when men talk in their Sleeps, they say any thing ; 
 but their Words are not governed, either by Faith or Reason. 
 There is an Incoherence/ in their Words now, as there was 
 before, betwixt their going on Pilgrimage and sitting down 
 here. This then is the Mischief on't, when heedless ones go 
 on Pilgrimage, 'tis twenty to one, but they are served thus. 
 For this enchanted Ground is one of the last Refuges that 
 the Enemy to Pilgrims has ; wherefore it is as you see, 
 placed almost at the end of the Way, and so it standeth 
 against us with the more Advantage. For when, thinks the 
 Enemy, will these Fools be so desirous to sit down, as when 
 they are weary ? and when so like to be weary, as when 
 almost at their Journeys end ? Therefore it is, I say, that 
 the enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the Land Beidah, 
 and so near the end of their Race. Wherefore let Pilgrims 
 look to themselves, lest it happen to them as it has done to 
 these, that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can wake 
 them. 
 
 Then the Pilgrims desired with trembling to go forward, 
 Tfie light of the only they prayed their Guide to strike a Light, 
 Wor(1 - that they might go the rest of their way by 
 
 the help of the light of a Lanthorn. So he strook a light, 
 and they went by the help of that thorow the rest of this 
 way, tho' the Darkness was very great. 
 
 But the Children began to be sorely weary, 
 
 The Children i . 1V i 
 
 cryforweari- and they cryed out unto him that loveth Pil- 
 grims, to make their way more Comfortable. 
 
 ms*. 
 
THE STORY OF STANDFAST 357 
 
 So by that they had gone a little further, a Wind arose 
 that drove away the Fog, so the Air became more clear. 
 
 Yet they were not off (by much) of the enchanted Ground ; 
 only now they could see one another better, and the way 
 wherein they should walk. 
 
 Now when thev were almost at the end of this Ground, 
 
 V 
 
 they perceived that a little before them, was a solemn Noise, 
 as of' one that was much concerned. So they went on and 
 looked before them, and behold, they saw, as they thought, 
 a Man upon his Knees, with Hands and Eyes standfast upon 
 lift up, and speaking, as they thought, earn- SiSKi" **" 
 estly to one that was above. They drew nigh, Ground. 
 but could not tell what he said ; so they went softly till 
 he had done. When he had done, he got up and began to 
 run towards the Coelestial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called 
 after him, saying, Soho, Friend, let us have your Company, 
 if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Coelestial 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 is it ? Tis one, 
 said he, that comes from whereabouts I dwelt ; The story of 
 his Name is Stand-fast , he is certainly a right Standfast, 
 good Pilgrim. 
 
 So they came up one to another and presently Stand-fast 
 said to old Honest, Ho, Father Honest, are you there ? Ay, 
 said he, that I am, as sure as you are there. Right 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 
 
 " " Talk betwixt 
 
 said, But why ? did you see me ? Yes, that Mm ami Mr. 
 I did, quoth the other, and with my Heart was 
 glad at the Sight. Why, what did you think, said Stand- 
 fast ? Think, said old Honest, what should I think ? 
 I thought we had an honest Man upon the Road, and 
 
358 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 therefore should have his Company by and by. If you 
 thought n >t amiss, how happy am I ? But i f 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: For 
 he saith, Blessed Is the Man that feareth always. 
 
 VALIANT. Well but Brother, I pray thee tell us what was 
 They found ^ that was the cause of thy being upon thy 
 him at prayer. Knees, even now ? Was it for that some special 
 Mercy laid Obligations upon thee, or how ? 
 
 STAND. Why we are as you see, upon the enchanted Ground, 
 and as I was coming along, I was musing with 
 
 What it ivas ' 
 
 that fetched him myself of what a dangerous Road the Road in 
 
 upon Jiis Knees. , i i 11*" , i 11 
 
 this place was, and how many that had come 
 even thus far on Pilgrimage, had here been stopt, 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 
 see the two Men asleep in the A rbor ? 
 
 STAND. Ay, Ay, I saw Heedless, and Too-bold there ; and 
 for ought I know, there they will lye till they Rot. But let 
 me go on in my Tale ? As I was thus Musing, as I said, 
 there was one in very pleasant Attire, but old, that presented 
 herself unto me, and offered me three things, to wit, her Body, 
 her Purse, and her Bed. Now the Truth is, I was both aweary 
 and sleepy ; I am also as poor as a Hoivlet, 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 
 
MADAM BUBBLE 359 
 
 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 Maf i am 
 Madarn^Bubble. This set me further from her; #&&/<% or this 
 but she still followed me with Inticements. 
 Then I betook me, as you see, to my Knees, and with Hands 
 lift up and cries, I pray'd 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. 
 
 HON. Without doubt her Designs were bad. But stay, now 
 you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have read 
 some story of her. 
 
 STANDF. Perhaps you have done both. 
 
 HON. Madam Bubble ? Is she not a tall comely Dame, 
 something of a swarthy Completion ? 
 
 STANDF. Right, you hit it, she is just such an one. 
 
 HON. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you, a 
 Smile at the end of a Sentence ? 
 
 STANDF. You 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 Mony, as if that was 
 her Heart's delight ? 
 
 STANDF. Tis just so. Had she stood by all this while, 
 you could not more amply have set her forth before n:e, 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. 
 
 G HEATH. This Woman is a Witch, and it is by Virtue of 
 her Sorceries that this Ground is enchanted. The World. 
 Whoever doth lay their Head down in her Lap, had as good 
 lay it down upon that Block over which the Ax doth hang ; 
 
360 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 and whoever lay their Eyes upon her Beauty are counted the 
 Enemies of God. This is she that maintaineth in their 
 Splendor, all those that are the Enemies of Pilgrims. Yea, 
 This is she that has bought off many a man from a Pilgrim's 
 Life. She is a great Gossiper, she is always, both she and her 
 Daughters, at one Pilgrim's Heels or other, now commend- 
 ing, 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 Mony 
 in a Place, she will speak well of him from House to House. 
 She loveth Banqueting, and Feasting, mainly well, she is 
 always at one full Table or another. She has given it out 
 in some places, that she is a Goddess, and therefore some 
 do Worship her. She has her times and open places of 
 Cheating, and she will say and avow it, that none can shew 
 a Good comparable to hers. She promiseth to dwell with 
 Children's Children, 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 commending her Commodities, and she loves them 
 most that think best of her. She will promise to some 
 Crowns and Kingdoms, if they will but take her Advice ; yet 
 manv has she brought to the Halter, and ten thousand times 
 
 / cj 
 
 more to Hell. 
 
 STANDF. O ! said Stand-fast, What a Mercy is it that I did 
 resist her : for whither might she a drawn me ? 
 
 GRKATH. Whither ! Nay, none but God knows whither. 
 But in general to be sure, she would a drawn thee into many 
 foolish and hurtful Lusts, which drown men in Destruction 
 and Perdition. 
 
 Twas she that set Absalom against his Father, and Jero- 
 boam against his Master. Twas she that persuaded Judas 
 
THE LAND OF BEULAH 361 
 
 to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demos to forsake 
 the godly Pilgrim's Life. None can tell of the Mischief that 
 she doth. She makes Variance betwixt Rulers and Subjects, 
 betwixt Parents and Children, 'twixt Neighbor and Neighbor, 
 'twixt a Man and his Wife, 'twixt a Man and himself, 'twixt 
 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 the?/ brake out and Sang. 
 
 What Danger is the Pilgrim in, 
 
 How many are his Foes, 
 
 How many ways there are to Sin, 
 
 No living Mortal knows. 
 
 Some of the Ditch shy are, yet can 
 
 Lie tumbling on the Mire. 
 
 Some tho" 1 they shun the Frying-pan, 
 
 Do leap into the Fire. 
 
 After this I beheld, until they were come unto the Land 
 of Beulahj where the Sun shineth Night and i pan, page 183. 
 Day. Here, because they was weary, they betook themselves 
 a while to Rest. And because this Country was common 
 for Pilgrims, and because the Orchards and Vineyards that 
 were here, belonged to the King of the Ccelestial 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 melo- 
 diously, that they could not sleep, and yet they received as 
 much refreshing as if they had slept their Sleep never so 
 soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked the 
 Streets, was, More Pilgrims are come to Town. And another 
 would answer, saying, And so many went over the Water, 
 
THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 and were let in at the Golden Gates to Day. They would 
 cry again, There is now a Legion of Shining ones, just come 
 to Town ; by which we know that there are more Pilgrims 
 upon the Road, for here they come to wait for them, and 
 to comfort them after all their Sorrow. Then the Pilgrims 
 got up and walked to and fro. But how were their Ears now 
 filled with heavenly Noises, and their Eyes delighted with 
 Coelestial Visions ? In this Land, they heard nothing, saw 
 nothing, felt nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing, that was 
 offensive to their Stomach or Mind ; only when they tasted 
 Death bitter to of the Water of the River over which they 
 "*J t l f* h t ^ ut were to go, they thought that tasted a little 
 Soul. Bitterish to the Palate, but it proved sweeter 
 
 when 'twas 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 
 Death has Us famous Acts that they had done. It was here 
 
 mofZtWc* als mUC>h discoursed how the mvcr to S0me 
 the Tide. h a d had its Jlowlngs, and what ebbings it has 
 
 had while others have gone over. It has been in a manner 
 dn/ for some, while it has overflowed its Banks for others. 
 
 In this place, the Children of the Town would go into the 
 King's Gardens and gather Nosegays for the Pilgrims, and 
 bring them to them with much Affection. Here also grew 
 Camphire with Spikenard, and Saffron, Calamus, and Cina- 
 mon, with all its Trees of Frankincense, Myrrh, and Aloes, 
 with all chief Spices. With these the Pilgrims' Chambers 
 were perfumed while they stayed here ; and with these were 
 their Bodies anointed to prepare them to go over the River 
 when the time appointed was come. 
 
 Now while they lay here and waited for the good Hour, 
 
 A Messenger of tliere Was a Noise in tlie Town, that there was 
 Death sent to a Post come from the Coelestial City, with 
 
 Christiana. ~. . . 
 
 Matter or great Importance, to one Ltinstiana, 
 
CHRISTIANAS LAST WORDS 363 
 
 the Wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So Enquiry was made 
 for her, and the House was found out where she was, so the 
 Post presented her with a Letter. The Contents whereof 
 was, Hail, Good Woman, I bring tliee Tidings His Message. 
 that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou 
 shouldest stand in his Presence, in Cloaths of Immortality, 
 within this ten Days. 
 
 When he had read this Letter to her, he gave her there- 
 with a sure Token that he was a true Messenger, and was 
 come to bid her make haste to be gone. The Token was, 
 An Arrow with a Point sharpened with Love, let HOIO u-eicome is 
 
 easily into her Heart, which by degrees wrought Death to them 
 
 * .77 7 that have n - 
 
 so effectually with her, that at the time ap- thing to do but 
 
 pointed 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 n er speech to 
 glad of the News, and could a been glad had her Guide - 
 the Post came for him. Then she bid that he should give 
 Advice how all things should be prepared for her Journey. 
 
 So he told her, saying, Thus and thus it must be, and we 
 that survive will accompany you to the River-side. 
 
 Then she called for her Children, and gave them her 
 Blessing, and told them that she yet read with Toh&rCiiiidren. 
 Comfort the Mark that was set in their Foreheads, and was 
 glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept 
 their Garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the 
 Poor that little she had, and commanded her Sons and 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-Jo?-- TO Mr. Valiant. 
 truth, and said unto him, Sir, you have in all places shewed 
 
364 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 yourself true-hearted ; be faithful unto Death, and my King 
 will give you a Crown of Life. I would also intreat you to 
 have an Eye to my Children, and if at any time you see 
 them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my Daughters, 
 my Sons' Wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of 
 TO Mr. stand- the Promise upon them will be their end. But 
 she gave Mr. Stand-fast a Ring. 
 
 Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, 
 TO Old Honest. Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no 
 Guile. Then said he, I wish you a fair Day when you set 
 out for Mount Sion, and shall be glad to see that you go 
 over the River dry-shod. But she answered, Come Wet, 
 come Dry, I long to be gone. For however the W.eather is 
 in my Journey, I shall have time enough when I come there 
 to sit down and rest me, and dry me. 
 
 Then came in that good Man Mr. Ready-to-halt to see her. 
 
 TO Mr. Heady- So she said to him, Thy Travel hither has been 
 Malt. with Difficlllty? 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. Dispondency, and his Daughter 
 TO Dispon- Mucli-ofraul. To whom she said, You ought 
 
 data/ and Jiis with Thankfulness for ever, to remember your 
 Deliverance from the Hands of Giant Despair, 
 and out of Doubting-Castle. The effect of that Mercy is 
 that you are brought with Safety hither. Be ye watch- 
 ful, and cast away Fear. Be sober, and hope to the 
 End. 
 
 Then she said to Mr. Feeble-Mind, Thou wast delivered 
 TO Feeble- from the Mouth of Giant Slay-good, that thou 
 
 mightest live in the Light of the Living for 
 ever, and see thy King with Comfort. Only I advise thee 
 to repent thee of thy aptness to fear and doubt of his 
 Goodness before he sends for thee, lest thou shouldest when 
 
MANNER OF DEPARTURE 365 
 
 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 
 
 i T i i i i 11 i T i i i Her last Day, 
 
 her Journey. But behold all the Banks beyond and manner of 
 the River were full' of Horses and Chariots, De P arture - 
 which were come down from above to accompany her to the 
 City-Gate. So she came forth and entered the Rive?*, with 
 a Beckon of Farewell, to those that followed her to the 
 River side. The last word she was heard to 'say here, was, 
 / 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. Ready-to-halt. So he enquired 
 him out and said to him, I am come to thee in the Name of 
 him whom thou hast Loved and Followed, tho" 1 upon Crutches. 
 And my Message is to tell thee, that he expects Ready-to-hait 
 thee at his Table to Sup with him in his King- Summoned. 
 dom 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, / have broken thy golden Bowl, and loosed 
 thy silver Cord. 
 
 After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his Fellow Pilgrims, 
 and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely 
 visit you also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his Will. 
 
366 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 And because he had nothing to bequeath to them that should 
 survive him but his Crutches and his good Wishes, therefore 
 Promises. thus he said. These Crutches I bequeath to my 
 
 Son that shall tread in my Steps, with an hun- 
 dred warm Wishes that he may prove better than I have 
 done. 
 
 Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his Conduct and 
 Kindness, and so addressed himself to his Journey. When 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 
 His last Words. Horses for me to ride on. The last words he 
 was heard to say, was, Welcome Life. So he went his way. 
 
 After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had Tidings brought him, that 
 Feeble-mind the Post sounded his Horn at his Chamber 
 Summoned. Door. Then he came in and told him, saying, 
 
 I am come to tell thee that thy Master has 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 at the Windows shall be 
 darkened. 
 
 Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his Friends, and told them 
 what Errand had been brought unto him, and what Token he 
 had received of the truth of the Message. Then he said, 
 Since I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose 
 He makes no should I make a Will? As for my feeble 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 Dung- 
 hill. This done, and the Day being come, in which he was 
 to depart, he entered the River as the rest. His last Words 
 His last Words, were, Hold out Faith and Patience. So he went 
 over to the other Side. 
 
THE PILGRIMS DEPART 367 
 
 When Days had many of them passed away, Mr. Dispon- 
 dency was sent for. For a Post was come and 
 
 & Mr. Dispon- 
 
 bronght this Message to him. Trembling Man, fancy's 
 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 Doublings. 
 
 And said the Messenger, That my Message is true, take 
 this for a Proof. So he gave him The Grasshopper to be 
 a Burthen unto him. Now Mr. Dispondency s Daughter, 
 whose Name was Much-afraid, said, when she His Daughter 
 heard what was done, that she would go with 9 es to - 
 her Father. Then Mr. Dispondency said to his Friends, 
 Myself and my Daughter, you know what we have been, 
 and how troublesomely we have behaved ourselves in every 
 Company. My will and my Daughter's is, That His Will 
 our Disponds and slavish Fears, be by no man ever received, 
 from the day of our Departure, for ever. For I know that 
 after my Death they will offer themselves to others. For, to 
 be plain with you, they are 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 Enter- 
 tainment of the Pilgrims ; 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 His last Words. 
 Mr. Dispondency, were, Farewell Night, Welcome Day. His 
 Daughter went thorow the River singing, but none could 
 understand what she said. 
 
 Then it came to pass, awhile after, that there was a Post 
 in the Town that enquired for Mr. Honest. Mr. Honest 
 So he came to his House where he was, and Summoned. 
 delivered to his Hand these Lines, Thou art Commanded 
 to be ready against this Day seven Night, to present thyself 
 before thy Lord, at his Father's House. And for a Token 
 
368 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 that my Message is true, All thy Daughters of Musick shall 
 be brought low. Then Mr. Honest called for his Friends, and 
 He makes no said unto them, I Die, but shall make no Will. 
 Wiu - As for my Honesty, it shall go with me ; let 
 
 him that comes after be told of this. When the Day that 
 he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over 
 the River. Now the River at that time overflowed the Banks 
 Good-con- in some places. But Mr. Honest in his Life 
 
 ^r^Honesi* time had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet 
 over the River. hi m there, the which he also did, and lent him 
 his Hand, and so helped him over. The last Words of 
 Mr. Honest were, Grace Reigns. So he left the World. 
 
 After this, it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth 
 Mr. Valiant was taken with a Summons, by the same Post 
 Summoned. as t ^ e o ther, and had this for a Token that the 
 Summons was true, That his Pitcher was broken at the 
 Fountain. When he understood it, he called for his Friends, 
 and told them of it. Then said he, I am going to my 
 Fathers, and tho 1 with great Difficulty I am got hither, yet 
 now I do not repent me of all the Trouble I have been 
 His will. 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 Re warder. 
 When the Day that he must go hence, was come, many 
 accompanied him to the River side, into which, as he went, 
 His last Words, he said, Death, where is thy Sting ? And as 
 he went down deeper, he said, Grave, where is thy Victory ? 
 So he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on 
 the other side. 
 
 Then there came forth a Summons for Mr, Stand-fast, 
 
MR. STAND-FAST SUMMONED 369 
 
 (This Mr. Stand-fast, was he that the rest of the Pilgrims 
 found upon his Knees in the enchanted Ground.) M T . stand-fast 
 For the Post brought it him open in his *> Summoned. 
 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. Stand- 
 fast was put into a Muse. Nay, said the Messenger, you 
 need not doubt of the Truth of my Message, for here is 
 a Token of the Truth thereof, Thy Wheel is broken at the 
 Cistern. Then he called to him Mr. Great-heart He callafor 
 who was their Guide, and said unto him, Sir, Mr. Great- 
 
 Altho' it was not my hap to be much in your 
 good Company in the Days of my Pilgrimage, His speech to 
 yet since the time I knew you, you have been him ' 
 profitable to me. When I came from home, I left behind 
 me a Wife, and five small Children. Let me entreat you, 
 at your Return, (for I know that you 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 and shall happen unto me. Tell them- jjis Errand to 
 moreover, of my happy Arrival to this Place,. liis Famtl y- 
 and of the present late blessed Condition that I am in. Tell 
 them also of Christian and Christiana his Wife, and how She 
 and her Children came after her Husband. Tell them also of 
 what a happy End she made, and whither she is gone. I have 
 little or nothing to send to my Family, except it be 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. Stand-fast, when he was 
 about half way in, he stood a while and talked to his 
 
370 THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS 
 
 Companions that had waited upon him thither. And 
 he said, 
 
 This River has been a Terror to many, yea the thoughts 
 His last Words, of it also have often frighted me. But 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. 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 Hear-say, and Faith, but now 
 I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him, in 
 whose Company I delight myself. 
 
 I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of, and wherever 
 I have seen the print of his Shoe in the Earth, there I have 
 coveted to set my Foot too. 
 
 V 
 
 His Name has been to me as a Civet-Box, yea, sweeter 
 than all Perfumes. His Voice to me has been most sweet, 
 and his Countenance, I have more desired than they that 
 have most desired the Light of the Sun. His Word I did 
 use to gather for my Food, and for Antidotes against my 
 Paintings, He has held me, and I have kept me from mine 
 Iniquities. Yea, my Steps hath he strengthened in his Way. 
 
 Now while he was thus in Discourse, his Countenance 
 changed, his strong man bowed under him, and after he had 
 said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased to be seen 
 of them. 
 
 But Glorious it was, to see how the open Region was filled 
 
LAST WORDS 371 
 
 with Horses and Chariots, with Trumpeters and Pipers, with 
 Singers and Players on stringed Instruments, to welcome the 
 Pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the 
 beautiful Gate of the City. 
 
 As for Christians Children, the four Boys that Christiana 
 brought with her, with their Wives and Children, I did not 
 stay where I was till they were gone over. Also since I came 
 away, I heard one say, that they were yet alive, and so would 
 be for the Increase of the Church in that Place where they 
 were for a time. 
 
 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 A dieu. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 Adam the first, of the Town of 
 Deceit, 87, 322. 
 
 All Prayer, 67. 
 
 Anchor, The golden, at the 
 Palace Beautiful, 278. 
 
 Any-thing, Mr., of the Town of 
 Fair-speech, 123. 
 
 Apollyon, Christian's battle 
 with, 72 ; and the monument 
 thereof, 282 ; described as 
 part-founder of Vanity-Fair, 
 
 109. 
 
 Apostacy, The Town of, 153. 
 Apple, Eve's, at the Palace 
 
 Beautiful, 277. 
 Apples, A dish of, 311. 
 Arbour on the hill Difficulty, 
 
 Christian at, 54 ; Christiana 
 
 at, 256. 
 Arbours on the Inchanted 
 
 Ground, 354, 355. 
 Armory in the Palace Beautiful, 
 
 The; 67. 
 Arrogancy, Faithful's relation, 
 
 90. 
 
 Assault lane, 317. 
 Atheist, 163. 
 
 Bath Sanctification, The, 246. 
 Bats-eyes, Mrs., of the City of 
 
 Destruction, 220. 
 Beautiful, The Palace, Christian 
 
 thereat, 58-68 ; Christiana 
 
 thereat, 260-79 ; Fearing 
 
 thereat, 299. 
 Beelzebub described as captain 
 
 of Apollyon, 75 ; as part- 
 founder of Vanity-Fair, 109; 
 as prince of the Town of 
 Vanity,! 10; The Castle of, 33; 
 230; the garden of, 23 1,273. 
 
 Beulah,The Country of, entered 
 by Christian and Hopeful, 
 1 83 ; reached by Christiana 
 and her train, 36 1. 
 
 Blind-man, Mr., foreman of 
 the jury at Faithful's trial, 
 118. 
 
 Bloody - man, or Grim, The 
 Giant, 259- 
 
 Bond-woman, The, 30. 
 
 Bottle of Spirits, Christiana's, 
 257, 258. 
 
 Bottle of Wine, A, 311. 
 
 Bountiful, Sister to Mercy, 272. 
 
 Brisk, Mr., sweet -heart of 
 Mercy, 270. 
 
 Britain Row in Vanity- Fair, 1 10. 
 
 Broad -way-gate, 1 53. 
 
 Bubble, Madame, temptress of 
 Mr. Stand-fast, 359- 
 
 Butcher, The, and Sheep at 
 the Interpreter's House, 240. 
 
 Butter and Honey, A dish of, 
 311. 
 
 By-ends, Mr., of the town of 
 Fair-speech, joins Christian 
 and Hopeful, 122 ; but parts 
 from them, 125 ; is finally 
 silenced, 1 30 ; his character, 
 323 ; and his ill-end, 3:>2. 
 
 By-ends, The wife of, 123, 323. 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 373 
 
 By- Path-Meadow, Christian and 
 Hopeful attracted to, 138; 
 reached by Christiana, 334. 
 
 By-way to Hell on the Delect- 
 able Mountains, 1 50 ; shown 
 to Mercy, 342. 
 
 Candle, Of the, 276. 
 
 Carnal -delight, Lord, of the 
 Town of Vanity, 1 16. 
 
 Carnal - Policy, The Town of, 
 21. 
 
 Caution, Mount, 149. 
 
 Celestial City, The, seen through 
 the shepherds' perspective 
 glass, 1 50 ; and from the 
 Land of Beulah, 184; entered 
 by Christian and Hopeful, 
 1 94 ; and by Christiana and 
 her companions, 365-7 1 . 
 
 Charity, a damsel at the Palace 
 Beautiful, 59, 267. 
 
 Charity, Mount, 342. 
 
 Christian, formerly named 
 Graceless, in distress, 1 1 ; is 
 guided by Evangelist, 13 ; 
 flees the City of Destruction, 
 1 3 ; and is accompanied by 
 Pliable, 1 6 ; he falls into the 
 Slough of Dispond and is de- 
 serted by his comrade, 1 8 ; but 
 is lifted out by Help, 19 5 he 
 meets Mr. Worldly- Wiseman, 
 21 ; and by his advice seeks 
 Mr. Legality, 23 ; he is found 
 by Evangelist under Mount 
 Sinai, 27 ; and told of the 
 true character of Mr. Worldly- 
 Wiseman and his friends, 29 ; 
 he is admitted by Good-will 
 at the Wicket Gate, 33 ; he 
 comes to the House of the 
 
 Interpreter, 36 ; and is shown 
 its excellent things, 36-46 ; 
 he loses his burden at the 
 Cross and receives a roll from 
 the Shining Ones, 46 ; he is 
 accompanied by Formalist 
 and Hypocrisy to the Hill 
 Difficulty, 49-53; meets Mis- 
 trust and Timorous, 54 ; he 
 misses his roll, 55 ; but finds 
 it again, 56 ; passes the lions 
 that guard the Palace Beauti- 
 ful, 57 ; talks with Piety, Pru- 
 dence and Charity, 60-65 ; 
 he is shown the rarities of 
 the Palace, 67 ; he enters 
 the Valley of Humiliation, 
 69 ; encounters and van- 
 quishes Apollyon, 69-76 ; 
 walks through the Valley of 
 the Shadow of Death, 76-82 ; 
 overtakes Faithful, 84 ; and 
 hears the story of his ad- 
 ventures, 85-93 ; the two 
 are accompanied by Talka- 
 tive, 93 ; who flings away, 
 103 ; Evangelist warns the 
 pilgrims of what is in store 
 for them in Vanity Fair, 1 05, 
 1 06; they enter the Fair, 111; 
 they are put in a cage, 112; 
 and placed on trial, 114; 
 Faithful is condemned and 
 executed, 121; Christian goes 
 forth with Hopeful, 1 22 ; they 
 overtake By-ends, 1 22 ; but 
 forsake him, 1 25 ; they come 
 to Lucre Hill and are tempt- 
 ed of Demas, 1 30 ; they sleep 
 in a pleasant meadow, 137; 
 they go into the By-path, 138; 
 and are in danger of drown- 
 
374 
 
 GENERAL INDEX 
 
 ing, 139 5 imprisoned by 
 Giant Despair in Doubting 
 Castle, 140; they escape, 
 146 ; they come to the 
 Delectable Mountains, 1 46 ; 
 and talk with the Shepherds, 
 147; they encounter Ignor- 
 ance, 151 ; they are taken 
 in a net by Flatterer, l6l; 
 but rescued by a Shining One, 
 162; who whips them, 162; 
 they argue with Atheist, 1 63 ; 
 come to the Enchanted 
 Ground, 1 65 ; and strengthen 
 each other with discourse, 
 1 65 ; Ignorance is met with 
 again, 183 ; the land of 
 Beulah is reached and the 
 pilgrims view the Celestial 
 City, 184 ; Christian's conflict 
 at the hour of death, 1 89 ; 
 the pilgrims are received by 
 angels, 192; and enter the 
 city through the Gate, 193; 
 Christian's blessed state, 
 208, 209. 
 
 Christiana, wife of Christian, 
 resolves to follow her hus- 
 band, 214; is reasoned with 
 by Mrs. Timorous, 217; but 
 starts on pilgrimage with her 
 sons, accompanied by Mercy, 
 221 ; they come to the 
 Slough of Dispond, 223 ; are 
 admitted at the Gate, 225 ; 
 the women are rescued from 
 the Ill-favoured ones by the 
 Reliever, 233 ; welcomed at 
 the Interpreter's House, 237 ; 
 they are shown the significant 
 rooms, 23842 ; (Treat-heart 
 becomes the conductor of 
 
 the party, 247 ; the Hill 
 Difficulty is reached, 254 ; 
 Christiana forgets her bottle 
 of spirits, 257 ; Giant Grim 
 is overcome and the lions are 
 passed,260; the Pilgrims come 
 to the Palace Beautiful, 262 ; 
 and sojourn there awhile, 264- 
 80 ; the boys are catechised, 
 267-70 ; Mercy has a sweet- 
 heart, 270; Mr. Skill is called 
 in to attend sick Matthew, 
 272 ; profitable questions, 
 275, 276 ; the journey is re- 
 sumed, 280 ; through the 
 Valley of Humiliation, 281- 
 86 ; and the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death, * 286-92 ; 
 Giant Maul is slain, 292 ; Old 
 Honest is discovered asleep, 
 293 ; Great - heart tells of 
 Fearing's troublesome pil- 
 grimage, 296-303 ; Honest 
 tells of Selfwill, 303-306; the 
 party puts up at the inn of 
 Gains, 307 ; their supper 
 party, 310-13; Slay-good is 
 vanquished, 31 6 ; Feeble- 
 mind and Ready-to-halt join 
 the train, 321 ; all come to 
 the Town of Vanity, and 
 
 * * 
 
 lodge with Mnason, a Cy- 
 prusian, 323 ; who invites 
 the good people of the place 
 to meet his visitors, 325 ; an 
 expedition against a monster, 
 328 ; the pilgrimage is re- 
 sumed, 332 ; at the River of 
 Life, 333; Giant Despair and 
 his castle are destroyed, 335; 
 Dispondency and his daugh- 
 ter Much-afraid, who were 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 375 
 
 prisoners, join the pilgrims, 
 336 ; and all come to the 
 Delectable Mountains, 339 ; 
 Valiant - for - Truth is met 
 with, 346; and he recounts 
 his stumbling-blocks, 346-53 ; 
 the Enchanted Ground is 
 reached, 353 ; Heedless and 
 Too-bold found asleep in an 
 arbour, 355 ; Stand-fast dis- 
 covered on his knees, 357 ; 
 tells of his temptations, 358- 
 6l ; the pilgrims come at 
 last to the land of Beulah, 
 36l ; a messenger of Death 
 comes to Christiana, 362 ; 
 who utters her farewells, 363- 
 65 ; and crossing the River 
 enters the Celestial City, 
 365 ; followed by the elder 
 pilgrims in their turn, 365 
 70. 
 
 Civility, son of Legality, 24, 30. 
 
 Clear, The Hill, 150. 
 
 Clouds, Of the, 275. 
 
 Cock, Of the, 276. 
 
 Conceit, The Country of, 151. 
 
 Contrite, Mr., a good person in 
 the Town of Vanity, 325-32. 
 
 Coveting, The County of, 125. 
 
 Cross, The, at which Christian's 
 burden is loosed, 46, 248, 
 251 ; Fearing cheered there- 
 by, 299; Turnaway's apostacy 
 thereat, 345. 
 
 Crow, The, and the Turtle- 
 dove, 157. 
 
 Cruelty, Mr., juryman at Faith- 
 ful's trial, 121. 
 
 Danger, The Way to, 53, 255. 
 Dare-not-lie, Mr., a good person 
 
 in the Town of Vanity, 325- 
 31. 
 
 Dark-land, 348. 
 
 Dead-man's-lane, 153. 
 
 Death, The Messenger of, 362. 
 
 Death, The Valley of the 
 Shadow of, Christian there- 
 in, 76-82 ; Faithful therein, 
 93 ; Christiana therein, 286- 
 92 ; Fearing therein, 300. 
 
 Deceit, The Town of, 87. 
 
 Delectable Mountains, The, 
 seen by Christian, 67; reached 
 by Christian and 'Hopeful, 
 1 46 ; and by Christiana and 
 her train, 339. 
 
 Demas at the Hill Lucre, 131, 
 332, 361. 
 
 Desire of Vain-glory, Lord, of 
 the Town of Vanity, 1 1 6. 
 
 Despair, Giant, captures Chris- 
 tian and Hopeful, 1 40 ; but 
 they escape, 1 46 ; he is over- 
 come by Great-heart and his 
 allies, 335. 
 
 Despair, The Iron Cage of, 43, 
 238. 
 
 Destruction, The City of, 14, 
 85, 207. 
 
 Destruction, The Way to, 53. 
 
 Difficulty, The Hill, Christian 
 at, 52 ; Faithful at, 87 ; 
 Christiana at, 254 ; Fearing 
 at, 299; Feeble-mind at, 
 317. 
 
 Diffidence, Mrs., wife of Giant 
 Despair, 141 ; slain by 
 Honest, 335. 
 
 Discontent assaults Faithful, 
 90, 322. 
 
 Discretion, a damsel at the 
 Palace Beautiful, 59. 
 
376 
 
 GENERAL INDEX 
 
 Dispond, The Slough of, 
 Christian and Pliable there- 
 at, 18 ; Christiana there- 
 at, 223 ; Fearing thereat, 
 
 297. 
 
 Dispondency, Mr., captive at 
 Doubting Castle, joins Chris- 
 tiana's party, 336 ; Christiana's 
 last words to, 364 ; his death, 
 
 367. 
 
 Dog, The Devil as a barking, 
 225, 229- 
 
 Doubting-Castle, Christian and 
 Hopeful imprisoned there- 
 in, 140-6; demolished by 
 Great - heart and others, 
 336. 
 
 Dreamer, The, in the Inter- 
 preter's House, 44, 238. 
 
 Dull, a woman dissuaded from 
 pilgrimage, 254. 
 
 Dusty Parlour in the Inter- 
 preter's House, 37. 
 
 Ease, The Plain of, 1 30. 
 
 Emmanuel's Land. See De- 
 lectable Mountains. 
 
 Enchanted Ground, The, Chris- 
 tian and Hopeful reach, 165; 
 Christiana and her com- 
 panions come to, 353. 
 
 Enmity, Mr., juryman at Faith- 
 ful's trial, 1 1 8. 
 
 Envy testifies against Faithful 
 at his trial, 115. 
 
 Error, The Hill, 148. 
 
 Evangelist first meets Christian, 
 1 3 ; comes again to him, 27 ; 
 exposes Mr. Worldly-Wise- 
 man, 29 ; and sets Christian 
 on the right path, 31 ; pro- 
 phesies the troubles in store 
 
 for him and Faithful at Vanity- 
 Fair, 106, 322. 
 
 Experience, a shepherd on the 
 Delectable Mountains, 148, 
 339-344. 
 
 Facing-bothways, Mr., of the 
 Town of Fair-speech, 123. 
 
 Faining, Lady, mother of Mr. 
 By-ends' wife, 1 23. 
 
 Faint-heart, one of the robbers 
 of Little-faith, 1 53. 
 
 Fair-speech, Lord, of the town 
 of that name, 1 23. 
 
 Fair-speech, The Town of, 1 23. 
 
 Faithful, first mentioned, 68 ; 
 is overtaken by Christian, 
 84; he relates his adventures, 
 85-93 ; has plain dealings 
 with Talkative, who flings 
 away from him, 103 ; is placed 
 on trial at Vanity-Fair, 114; 
 and is condemned and exe- 
 cuted, 121 ; his advice to 
 Hopeful, 169; his example, 
 
 QQQ 
 
 UAtAt* 
 
 Fearing, Mr., uncle of 
 Mr. Feeble-mind, 296 ; his 
 troublesome pilgrimage, 296- 
 301. 
 
 Feeble-mind, Mr., of the Town 
 of Uncertain, delivered from 
 Slay-good, 31 6; his story, 
 316-1 8 ; he joins Christiana's 
 party, 320 ; Christiana's last 
 words to, 364; his death. 
 366. 
 
 Field of Corn, The, at the In- 
 terpreter's House, 241. 
 
 Filth, Mrs., friend of Madame 
 Wanton, 221. 
 
 Fire, Of the, 27/"> 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 377 
 
 Fire of Grace, The, in the Inter- 
 preter's House, 40. 
 
 Flatterer, a false Apostle, l6l. 
 
 Fool and Want-wit washing an 
 Ethiopian, 342. 
 
 Forgetful -Green in the Valley 
 of Humiliation, 284. 
 
 Formalist, or Formality, of 
 the Land of Vain-glory, 50, 
 255. 
 
 French Row in Vanity-Fair, 110. 
 
 Gains, the disciple and inn- 
 keeper, 307- 
 
 Garden of Flowers, The, at the 
 Interpreter's House, 241. 
 
 Garden, The Devil's, 231, 273. 
 
 Gardener, The King's, 184. 
 
 Gate, The Wicket, first men- 
 tioned, 1 3 ; opened to Chris- 
 tian, 33 ; reached by Chris- 
 tiana and her train, 224 ; 
 Fearing' s behaviour thereat, 
 ^297. 
 
 GermanRowinVanity-Fair,! 1 0. 
 
 Godly-man, on Mount Inno- 
 cent, 341, 342. 
 
 Good-confidence, The City of, 
 154. 
 
 Good-conscience helps Mr. 
 Honest over the river, 368. 
 
 Good-will, the Keeper at the 
 Gate. See Gate. 
 
 Grace, daughter of Mnason, 
 325, married to Samuel, 328. 
 
 Graceless, Christian's name be- 
 fore conversion, 58. 
 
 Graceless, The Town of, 180. 
 
 Great-grace, the King's Cham- 
 pion, 154, 158, 341. 
 
 Great-heart becomes the con- 
 ductor of Christiana's party, 
 
 247 ; slays the Giant Grim 
 or Bloody-man, 260 ; leaves 
 his charges at the Palace 
 Beautiful, 263 ; returns with 
 tokens from his Lord, 279 ; 
 slays Giant Maul, 292 ; also 
 Giant Slay-good, 31 6 ; is the 
 death of Giant Despair whose 
 castle is demolished, 335 ; 
 and finally brings his charges 
 to the river-side, 36l. 
 
 Grim, or Bloody-man, The 
 Giant, 259- 
 
 Gripe-man, Mr., a schoolmaster, 
 125. 
 
 Guilt, one of the robbers of 
 Little-faith, 153. 
 
 Hate-good, Lord, judge at 
 Faithful's trial, 114. 
 
 Hate-light, Mr., juryman at 
 Faithful's trial, 1 1 8. 
 
 Having Greedy, Sir, of the 
 Town of Vanity, 1 1 6. 
 
 Heady j Mr., juryman at Faith- 
 ful's trial, 1 1 8. 
 
 Hearts-ease, the Herb, 283. 
 
 Heave-shoulder, 311. 
 
 Heedless asleep in the Arbourin 
 the Enchanted Ground, 355. 
 
 Heedless slain in the Valley of 
 Humiliation, 290. 
 
 Hell, By-way to, on the Delect- 
 able Mountains, 150, 342. 
 
 Help lifts Christian out of the 
 Slough of Dispond, 20. 
 
 Hen and Chickens in the Inter- 
 preter's House, 240. 
 
 High-mind, Mr., juryman at 
 Faithful's trial, il8. 
 
 Hold-the-World, Mr., once 
 schoolfellow of By-ends, 125. 
 
378 
 
 GENERAL INDEX 
 
 Holy-man, Mr., a good person 
 in the Town of Vanity,325-3 1 . 
 
 Honest, Mr., of the Town of 
 Stupidity, discovered asleep, 
 293 ; he joins Christiana's 
 party, 294? ; Christiana's last 
 words to, 364 ; his death, 368. 
 
 Honesty, The Town of, 180. 
 
 Honey and Butter, A dish of, 
 311. 
 
 Hopeful quits Vanity-Fair, 122; 
 and with Christian goes to the 
 Celestial City. See Christian. 
 
 Humble-mind, a damsel in the 
 Palace Beautiful, 264. 
 
 Humiliation, The Valley of, 
 Christian therein, 68-76 ; 
 Faithful therein, 89-93 ; 
 Christiana therein, 281-86; 
 Fearing therein, 299- 
 
 Hypocrisy, of the land of Vain- 
 glory, 50, 255. 
 
 Ignorance, of the land of Con- 
 ceit, meets Christian and 
 Hopeful, 151 ; but is left 
 behind, 152; he comes up 
 again, 1 73 ; is ferried over 
 the river by Vain-hope, but 
 is taken to Hell, 195. 
 
 Ill-favoured ones, The, dreamt 
 of by Christiana, 212, 235, 
 244 ; they assail the women, 
 
 Ill-will, the hater of Godly- 
 
 man, 341, 342. 
 Immanuel's Land., 68. See 
 
 Delectable Mountains. 
 Implacable, Mr., juryman a I 
 
 Faithful's trial, 118. 
 Inchanted Ground, The. See 
 
 Enchanted. 
 
 Inconsiderate, a thief, assailant 
 of Valiant-for-Truth, 346. 
 
 Inconsiderate, Mrs., of the City 
 of Destruction, 220. 
 
 Inkhorn, The man w r ith the, in 
 the Interpreter's House, 41. 
 
 Innocent, a damsel in the In- 
 terpreter's House, 236. 
 
 Innocent, Mount, 341. 
 
 Interpreter, The House of the, 
 Christian therein, 36-46 ; 
 Christiana therein, 236-48 ; 
 Mr. Fearing therein, 298. 
 
 Interpreter welcomes Christian 
 to his house, 36 ; and shows 
 its excellent things, 36-46 ; 
 receives and entertains Chris- 
 tiana and her train, 236-48 ; 
 encourages Fearing, 298. 
 
 Italian Row in Vanity-Fair, 110. 
 
 Jacob's ladder, 277. 
 
 James, son of Christian and 
 
 Christiana, catechised, 267 ; 
 
 married to Phoebe, 319- 
 Joseph, son of Christian and 
 
 Christiana, catechised, 268 ; 
 
 married to Martha, 328. 
 
 Key called Promise, The, 145. 
 Knowledge, a Shepherd on the 
 
 Delectable Mountains, 148, 
 
 339-41. 
 Know-nothing, Mrs., of the 
 
 City of Destruction, 220. 
 
 Lecherv, Lord, of the Town of 
 
 m, * 
 
 Vanity, 1 1 6. 
 Lecherv, Mr., friend of Madame 
 
 Wanton, 221. 
 Legality, Mr., of the Village of 
 
 Morality, 23, 30. 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 379 
 
 Legion, part-founder of Vanity- 
 Fair, 109. 
 Light-mind, Mrs., of the City 
 
 of Destruction, 220. 
 Linger - after - Lust dissuaded 
 
 from pilgrimage, 253. 
 Lions, The, at the Palace Beau- 
 tiful, 54, 57, 258, 299. 
 Little-faith, of the Town of 
 
 Sincere, the story of, 153. 
 Live-loose, Mr., juryman at 
 
 Faithful's trial, 118. 
 Looking-glass, The, desired by 
 
 Mercy, 343. 
 Lot's wife, The Monument of, 
 
 134, 333. 
 
 Love-gain, The Town of, 125. 
 Love-lust, Mr., juryman at 
 
 Faithful's trial, 118. 
 Love-saint,Mr., a good person in 
 
 the Town of Vanity, 325-31. 
 Love-the-flesh, Mrs., friend of 
 
 Madame Wanton, 221. 
 Lucre, The Hill, 1 30, 332. 
 Lust of the eyes, daughter of 
 
 Adam the first, 88. 
 Lust of the flesh, daughter of 
 
 Adam the first, 88. 
 Luxurious, Lord, of the Town 
 
 of Vanity, 1 1 6. 
 Lyar, Mr., juryman at Faithful's 
 'trial, 118. 
 
 Malice, Mr., juryman at Faith- 
 ful's trial, 1 1 8. 
 
 Martha, Mnason's daughter, 
 married to Joseph, 328. 
 
 Marvel, Mount, 341. 
 
 Matthew, son of Christian and 
 Christiana, catechised, 269 ; 
 falls sick, 272 ; marries 
 Mercy, 313, 319. 
 
 Maul, The Giant, 290. 
 
 Mercy visits Christiana, 217; 
 and goes on pilgrimage with 
 her, 221 ; is impatient at the 
 Gate, 226; has a dream, 265; 
 is wooed by Mr. Brisk, 270 ; 
 is married to Matthew, 313, 
 319; her labours for the poor, 
 328 ; she longs for the look- 
 ing-glass, 343. 
 
 Michael helps Christian, 76. 
 
 Milk, A dish of, 311. 
 
 Mistrust, a pilgrim frightened 
 by the lions, 54, 258. 
 
 Mistrust, one of the robbers of 
 Little-faith, 153. 
 
 Mnason, Mr., a Cyprusian, who 
 entertains Christiana's party 
 in the Town of Vanity, 323. 
 
 */ * 
 
 Money-love, Mr., once school- 
 fellow of By-ends, 125. 
 
 Monster, The, from the woods 
 near Vanity, 328. 
 
 Morality, The Village of, 23. 
 
 Moses, assailant of Faithful, 89- 
 
 Much-afraid, daughter of Dis- 
 pondency, is rescued from 
 Doubting-Castle and joins 
 the pilgrims, 336; her death, 
 
 367. 
 
 Muck-rake, The man with the, 
 in the Interpreter's House, 
 
 238. 
 
 No-good, Mr., juryman at Faith- 
 ful's trial, 118. 
 
 No-heart dissuaded from pil- 
 grimage, 253. 
 
 Not-right, Mr., slain with a 
 thunder-bolt, 319- 
 
 Nuts, A Dish of, 312. 
 
380 
 
 GENERAL INDEX 
 
 Obstinate, of the city of De- 
 struction, 14. 
 
 Oldman, Lord, of the town of 
 Vanity, 1 1 6. 
 
 Pagan, The Giant, 83. 
 
 Palace Beautiful, The, Christian 
 thereat, 56-68 ; Christiana 
 thereat, 262-80 ; Fearing 
 thereat, 299. 
 
 Parlour in the Interpreter's 
 House, The dusty, 37. 
 
 Passion at the House of the 
 Interpreter, 39. 
 
 Patience at the House of the 
 Interpreter, 39. 
 
 Peace, The Chamber of, 66, 265. 
 
 Pelican, Of the, 276. 
 
 Penitent, Mr., a good person 
 in the town of Vanity, 325- 
 31. 
 
 Perspective Glass, The Shep- 
 herds', 150. 
 
 Phoebe, Gaius's daughter, mar- 
 ried to James, 319- 
 
 Physick, Of, 274. 
 
 Pickthank testifies against 
 Faithful at his trial, 1 1 6. 
 
 Picture, The, in the Interpre- 
 ter's House, 36, 238. 
 
 Piety, a damsel at the Palace 
 Beautiful, 59, 267. 
 
 Pillar erected by Christian, 1 46, 
 
 339. 
 
 Pillar of Salt, The, 132, 333. 
 
 Pills, The, administered to Mat- 
 thew, 273. 
 
 Pliable, neighbour of Christian, 
 14; with whom he starts on 
 pilgrimage, 16; turns back 
 at the Slough of Dispond, 
 1 8 ; returns to the City of 
 
 Destruction, 21 ; how he is 
 accounted of, 86. 
 
 Pope, The Giant, 83. 
 
 Pragmatick, a thief, assailant 
 of Valiant-for-Truth, 346. 
 
 Prating-row, 96. 
 
 Prejudice, hater of Godly-man, 
 341, 342. 
 
 Presumption, Sleepy, 49, 253. 
 
 Pride, Faithful's relation, 90. 
 
 Pride of life, daughter of Adam 
 the first, 88. 
 
 Promise, The Key called, 
 145. 
 
 Prospect for Pilgrims, 84, 292. 
 
 Prudence, a damsel at the 
 Palace Beautiful, 59, 267. 
 
 Rainbow, Of the, 276. 
 
 Ready-to-halt, accompanies 
 Christiana's party, 321 ; 
 Christiana's last message to, 
 364 ; his death, 366. 
 
 River of Death, The ; Christian 
 and Hopeful pass through, 
 1 89 ; Ignorance is ferried over, 
 195 ; Fearing goes over, 301 ; 
 and it is crossed by Chris- 
 tiana, 365 ; Ready-to-halt, 
 366 ; Feeble-mind, 366 ; 
 Dispondency, 367 ; Much- 
 afraid, 367 ; Honest, 367 : 
 Valiant-for-Truth, 368 ; and 
 by Standfast, 369- 
 
 River of the Water of Life, The, 
 Christian and Hopeful at, 
 137 ; Christiana and her fol- 
 lowing at, 333. 
 
 Reliever, The, of the women 
 from the Ill-favoured ones, 
 233. 
 
 Riddles, 312-14. 
 
 Robin, The, and the Spider 
 
GENERAL INDEX 
 
 381 
 
 at the Interpreter's House, 
 241. 
 
 Sagacity relates part of the 
 story, 208. 
 
 Salvation, The Wall of, 46. 
 
 Samuel, son of Christian and 
 Christiana, catechised, 269 ; 
 married to Grace, 328. 
 
 Sanctification, The Bath, 246. 
 
 Save-all, Mr., once schoolfellow 
 of By-ends, 1 25. 
 
 Save-self, the perverter of Tem- 
 porary, 181. 
 
 Say-well, Talkative's father, 96. 
 
 Secret instructs Christiana, 213. 
 
 Self-conceit, Faithful's relation, 
 90. 
 
 Selfwill, Mr., The opinions of, 
 303^305. 
 
 Sepulchre at the Cross, The, 
 46, 251, 299, 345. 
 
 Shame puts Faithful hard to it, 
 90-92, 322. 
 
 Shepherds, The, 147, 339-45. 
 
 Shining One, The, with a whip, 
 162. 
 
 Shining Ones, The three, 46. 
 
 Short-wind dissuaded from pil- 
 grimage, 253. 
 
 Silver mine at the Hill Lucre, 
 130, 332. 
 
 Simple, Sleepy, 49, 253. 
 
 Sinai, Mount, 24. 
 
 Sincere, a shepherd on the 
 Delectable Mountains, 148, 
 247-345. 
 
 Sincere, The Town of, 153. 
 
 Sion, Mount, 33, 50, 163, 191. 
 
 Skill, Mr., an approved phy- 
 sician, 272. 
 
 Slay-good, The giant, 315, 326. 
 
 Sleepy-head dissuaded from 
 pilgrimage, 253. 
 
 Slothful's Friend, The, an 
 arbour in the Enchanted 
 Ground, 354. 
 
 Sloth, Sleepy, 49, 253. 
 
 Slough of Dispond, The, Chris- 
 tian and Pliable thereat, 1 8 ; 
 Christiana thereat, 223; Fear- 
 ing thereat, 297. 
 
 Slow-pace dissuaded from pil- 
 grimage, 253. 
 
 Smooth-man, Mr., of the town 
 of Fair-speech, 123. 
 
 Spanish Row in Vanity-Fair, 110. 
 
 Spider in the Interpreter's 
 House, The, 239. 
 
 Spider, The, and Robin at the 
 Interpreter's House, 241. 
 
 Spies, The children of the, 76. 
 
 Springs, Of the, 276. 
 
 Stand-fast, Mr., upon his knees, 
 357 ; his story, 358-61 ; his 
 death, 370. 
 
 Stupidity, The Town of, 294. 
 
 Sun, Of the, 275. 
 
 Superstition testifies against 
 Faithful at his trial, 11 6. 
 
 Take-heed preserved in the 
 Valley of Humiliation, 290. 
 
 Talkative accompanies Chris- 
 tian and Faithful, 93 ; but is 
 repulsed by the latter, 103, 
 322. 
 
 Taste - that - which - is - good, 
 Gaius's cook, 308. 
 
 Tell-true, Mr., the converter of 
 Valiant-for-Truth, 348. 
 
 Temporary, of Graceless, 1 80. 
 
 Time-server, Lord, of the town 
 of Fair-speech, 123. 
 
382 
 
 GENERAL INDEX 
 
 Timorous, a pilgrim frightened 
 by the lions, 54, 2 17, 244,258. 
 
 Timorous, Mrs., 217, 244. 
 
 Too-bold asleep in the Arbour 
 in the Enchanted Ground, 
 355. 
 
 Tree, The rotten, in the Inter- 
 preter's Garden, 243. 
 
 Turn-about, Lord, of the town 
 of Fair-speech, 123. 
 
 Turn-away, of the Town of 
 
 v * 
 
 Apostacy, 153, 345. 
 Turn-back, of the Town of 
 
 Graceless, 180. 
 Turtle-dove, The, and the Crow, 
 
 157. 
 Two-tongues, Mr., parson at 
 
 Fair-speech, 123. 
 
 Uncertain, The Town of, 317- 
 
 Vain confidence, The fate of, 
 138. 
 
 Vain-glory, The land of, 50. 
 
 Vain-hope, the Ferryman, 195. 
 
 Valiant-for-Truth, Mr.,of Dark- 
 land, beset with thieves, 346; 
 joins Christiana's party, 348 ; 
 the story of his adventures, 
 348-53 ; Christiana's last 
 words to, 363; his death, 
 368. 
 
 Valiant Man, The, in the Inter- 
 preter's House, 41, 238. 
 
 Valley of Humiliation,, The, 
 Christian therein, 69-76 ; 
 Faithful therein, 90-93 ; 
 Christiana therein, 281-86; 
 Fearing therein, 299- 
 
 Valley of the Shadow of Death, 
 
 The, Christian therein, 76- 
 
 82; Faithful therein, 93; 
 
 Christiana therein, 286-92; 
 
 Fearing therein, 300. 
 Vanity-Fair, Christian and 
 
 Faithful at, 1 1 1-22; Fearing 
 
 at, 300. 
 Vanity, The town of, Christiana 
 
 and her friends stay therein, 
 
 323-32. 
 
 Wanton, Madame, temptress of 
 Faithful, 87, 221, 322, 
 
 Want-wit and Fool washing an 
 Ethiopian, 342. 
 
 Watchful, the porter at the 
 Palace Beautiful, 57, 260. 
 
 Watchful, a shepherd on the 
 Delectable Mountains, 148, 
 339-45. 
 
 Wave-Breast, 311. 
 
 Wicket-Gate, first mentioned, 
 1 3 ; Christian thereat, 33 ; 
 opened to Christiana and her 
 train. 225 ; Fearing's be- 
 haviour thereat, 297. 
 
 Wild-head, a thief, assailant of 
 Valiant-for-Truth, 346. 
 
 Worldly-glory, Faithful's rela- 
 tion/ 90. 
 
 Worldly-Wiseman, Mr., of the 
 town of Carnal Policy, meets 
 Christian, and snares him 
 with ill counsel, 21 ; his 
 deceit is discovered by Evan- 
 gelist, 29- 
 
 Zion, Mount, 33, 50, 163, Ipl. 
 
 Oxford : HORACE HART, Printer to the University 
 
.-.- 
 
 
 
 Renewed boofe 
 
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 FEB5 1966 
 
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